Escape from Avalon
by Kimberly T
Summary: When last we saw Goliath, Angela, Hudson and the New Orleans Clan ladies, they were on their way to Avalon to see Angela's rookery kin. But even before arriving on the shore, they could tell something was wrong. The quest for mates becomes a rescue mission, a desperate ploy to trick the King of Tricksters and bring all the gargoyles home to Manhattan so the clan can thrive again!
1. State of Siege

**LIFE GOES ON:**

_**ESCAPE FROM AVALON**_

By Kimberly T. (e-mail: kimbertow AT yahoo etc.)

_Author's note: Yes, I've been absent from this series for a long time; over a year. I never forgot 'Life Goes On' and all its fans, but I've had a series of RL issues and another fandom getting in the way of my Gargoyles fanfic-writing. Plot bunnies for Avatar: the Last Airbender are steadily eating away at my brain (and breeding even more plot bunnies), but I still have some Gargoyles stories left in me; the trouble is getting them from my brain into the computer for sharing with readers…_

**Escape from Avalon, Part 1: State of Siege**

Goliath, Hudson, Bronx, and Angela, along with the New Orleans Clan gargoyles Ursula, Yvette and Marie, had arrived on Avalon's southernmost shore barely moments ago, instead of the harbor below the Palace as they had the last two times Goliath had been here. And now, as they wondered why, they heard the faint tolling of a bell.

Goliath looked wide-eyed at Angela, who was staring right back at him; they both knew that only one bell had ever been forged on Avalon. "The iron bell?" she asked, fearing the confirmation.

"I think so," Goliath rumbled, "And that means something is seriously wrong. All of you stay close, and be ready for anything." They silently got out of the pirogues and dragged them further up the beach, and Angela and Goliath began searching for foliage to cover them with, to disguise them just in case.

It was while they were dragging some large leafy branches back to the pirogues that they heard a voice hissing at them from the direction of the forest… and heard Marie, who'd evidently seen the newcomer, hissing to Yvette, "Mine!"

Angela dropped her branch and turned, saw who was hissing and beckoning to them and hissed to the New Orleans females, "He's taken already. Nimrod, what's going on?"

"I'll explain later. Right now, get over here quick, all of you!" hissed the gray three-horn-crested male, one of Angela's nineteen rookery brothers, as he gestured urgently. "Follow me, fast but as quiet as you can," he whispered to them as they hurried over. "The bell's too faint out here for any real safety."

"Safety?" Angela hissed to him as she followed him into the forest, the others right behind her and Goliath bringing up the rear, guarding their backs. "Safety from what? Oberon's Children? Why are you ringing the iron bell? We promised Oberon we wouldn't do that anymore!"

"A lot has changed in the nights since you left, sister," was all Nimrod would say as he led them deeper into the forest, closer to the sound of the bell. Along the way they met Ophelia, who was standing in a clearing listlessly picking berries off of bushes.

Ophelia looked up as they hurried through the clearing, and Angela was silently horrified to see the dark circles under her rookery sister's eyes and the utterly drained expression on her face, as though someone had sucked all the life and joy out of her. But a little of her bright spirit seemed to return when she saw them, and she fell in beside them and took Nimrod's hand as they hurried closer to the ringing of the bell.

The sound of the iron bell was becoming very loud when Angela noticed a change in the foliage around them; it reminded her of The Green, the rain forest that the Guatemalan gargoyles had been protecting in the outer world. She remembered the two gargoyles who had left the Green in their company, to plant seedlings and samples of their rain forest's rare and special plants on Avalon where they would be kept safe forever. Speaking up to be better heard over the bell, she asked Ophelia, "Are Jade and Turquesa still here?"

"Aye, luckily for us if not for them! We're almost at the heart of the New Green, as they like to call it," Ophelia tossed over her shoulder just before they came to a clearing. A small hut stood in the center of the clearing, a rough wooden hut with, of all things, a tall steeple on top of it. Angela recognized her rookery brother Theseus perched in the steeple, listlessly leaning against the frame but with one hand determinedly yanking on the rope tied to the bell, clanging it in a steady rhythm.

Down below the steeple, Gabriel sat on the steps to the hut's small porch, steadily and grimly sharpening a sword with a whetstone. Boudicca lay at his feet, listlessly gnawing on a huge thighbone. Ophelia called out to them as they drew near, "Gabriel! Boudicca! See who's come to help us!"

Boudicca immediately sprang up barking and wagged her long forked tail in happy greeting at the sight of them. Gabriel looked up at her words, and his grim expression seemed to lighten for a moment when he saw the newcomers, but he gave no words of greeting, only nodding curtly to them as he set the sword and whetstone down and gestured for them to follow him and Boudicca inside the hut.

Inside the hut, they saw Jade and Turquesa lying face-down on cots, trying to sleep, with great wads of material stuffed into their ears to muffle the tolling of the bell. Gabriel tapped their wing struts to rouse them, and they groggily got up. Both the Guatemalan gargoyles were plainly exhausted, and Jade said hoarsely as he saw Goliath, "How nice to see you again. A pity it couldn't be under better circumstances."

"Forget such pleasantries," Goliath rumbled, his expression thunderous. "What in the world is going on here?"

"Goliath? Is that ye? Please God, let me not be dreaming this," came weakly from a room off to one side, and they looked over to see Guardian Tom leaning against the doorframe. This time Angela could not restrain her gasp of horror and dismay. When last they'd seen him, Tom had been hale and hearty, in excellent shape for a man approaching fifty years of age. Now he looked to have aged another decade or more, in what should have been less than ten days.

"Oh, Tom!" Angela cried out as she rushed over to him. "What's happened to-"

"Hush now, and let's go talk elsewhere," Tom interrupted as he gently laid a finger on Angela's lips. "Let our princess get all the sleep she can; 'tis hard come by, these days." Gabriel wordlessly gestured them towards another room in the hut, one which they had obviously been using for storing food. The tolling of the bell was slightly more muffled here, and Tom sighed as he said, still pacing his words to be heard between the dull ringings, "I trust ye can live with the sound of the bell; we've had to, in the last few days. We keep it ringing at all times, day and night; it's our only protection now, against the Fey."

"But Oberon swore he'd never do you harm, in return for sparing his life when he tried to get rid of us all!" Angela protested. "He even made you his honor guard!"

"Aye, and we still are," Nimrod said bitterly. "We still must dance attendance on his Majesty when we are awake, lest he accuse us of being oathbreakers and raise his power against us personally, as he threatened when we first tried to leave. So every night, our bravest and most patient warriors must leave the New Green and glide to the castle, stand about and look pretty for Oberon, and return here, barely beating the dawn, to sleep in or near the hut and the safety the bell provides. Two of our warriors have turned to stone between here and there, but so far Jade, Turquesa and Tom have managed to find them and bring them to safety. But one of these days, one of the bad Children will find them first…"

"But why is our old home unsafe now? Oberon gave his word!" Angela nearly shouted in her outrage.

"Aye, for all his word's worth," Tom said bitterly. "For the first two nights after ye left for the outer world, all was well; Oberon gathered his Children, and as they came to court, he made it plain enough to them that the eggs were his honor guard and not to be bothered or involved in their petty schemes. Then on the third night he summoned Boudicca, and went with her to the outer world. We heard that he was using her to track down one of his wayward Children, a trickster named Puck."

Angela, Goliath and Hudson all exchanged glances, their faces sick with dawning realization and horror, as Tom continued, "He came back a few minutes later without Puck, but with Boudicca and his queen Titania at his side. Then he left again, saying something about a newborn babe, and the queen followed an instant later. They returned together shortly after, still without Puck, and with Oberon in a wrathful mood indeed. He said not a word what had happened to any of the court, only that Puck would not be joining them, now or ever again; he was banished from Avalon forever. And soon after that, the trickster nature of some of the Children became too strong for them to resist, and they began playing little pranks on us.

"Nothing worrisome at first, just wee things like changing the drink in a mug from wine to vinegar. Wee things that could possibly be blamed on our own carelessness, instead of one of the Fey being playful, as they still remembered Oberon's decree. But then they grew bolder, and began to do more bothersome things, like causing us to trip over objects that appeared under our feet, then vanished into thin air. That's how my sweet Katherine broke her hip."

Angela gasped in horror; in the medieval lifestyle she'd been raised in, a fractured hip for a human usually meant spending the rest of a severely shortened life bedridden. Tom reassured her, "Queen Titania healed her, bless the Lady, but when no action was taken against any of the Fey who could've done it, they grew bolder still. We've had to deal with bread that turned to stone while ye chewed it, tunics and loincloths that became fanciful dresses or vanished entirely without warning, weapons than turned into flowers and vermin in our grasp… Then three nights ago, when the eggs awoke we discovered that sometime during their stone sleep atop the battlements, two of them had disappeared; both Menalippe and Michael, gone as though they'd just vanished into thin air, not even any gravel left behind on their perches!"

"Noooo!" Angela wailed for her lost rookery brother and sister, while Goliath clenched his fists and ground his teeth in frustrated rage and grief. Hudson convulsively grasped the hilt of his sword, as though wishing for an enemy to run through right then, while Tom continued: "When Gabriel went before Oberon himself to demand either our siblings' safe return or vengeance for their demise, the Weird Sisters changed his voice to that of a yappy little lap-dog, then muzzled him for 'speaking without the proper respect'! We've since gotten the muzzle off, but his voice is still that of a wee dog! 'Twas obvious then that we had no protection any longer, and we could not fight them all, so we fled."

"Oh, Gabriel!" Angela turned to the Avalon clan leader, but he pulled away from her touch, turning his face to the hut's window. It was plain from his body language that he didn't want her sympathy, and her lip trembled as she let her arms fall to her sides again.

Jade spoke up now, adding, "When they discovered that Oberon had sealed off the mists of passage surrounding Avalon so they could not leave, they came here, to the New Green, and started ringing the bell to make a sanctuary. The Avalon clan had helped us to plant all our seedlings when we first arrived; now we help them by taking our turns ringing the bell during the day, so Tom and Katherine may get some rest."

Ophelia stepped in then, to add, "Not all the Fey are menacing us. A few are even trying to protect us from their fellow immortals' mischief; the ones known as Coyote, Grandmother, and Lady-of-the-Lake. When warriors have been caught by sunrise before reaching this forest, Coyote and Grandmother have stood watch over them until we could retrieve them safely. But several of them bedevil us as often as they wish, the worst of the lot being the Weird Sisters, Raven and the spider-beast Anansi, and would likely be on us even now if we didn't keep the bell ringing at all hours."

"Oh, by the Dragon…" Goliath sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands, groaning in despair. "The ruin we've brought to our children!"

"The ruin _ye've_ brought?" Tom asked incredulously.

"Aye," Hudson said bitterly. "The ruin we brought down upon ye when we prevented Oberon from taking the babe, Alexander! He came to Manhattan hunting Puck, and instead found his queen Titania and her half-breed daughter Fox, who'd just given birth to a wee male babe with potential for magic. Titania and Oberon decided that the babe should be taken from his parents, and brought to Avalon t'be raised and taught magic. The boy's sire had long been our enemy, and his wife was no friend to the clan either, but we still helped them and the trickster Puck fend off Oberon until we could get him to agree to leave the babe in his mother's arms."

"And when Oberon returned to Avalon, he took his anger against us and turned it on you, our clan's children!" Goliath said bitterly. "I should have just let them take the babe, and to the Dragon's den with Xanatos and Fox!"

"It-it's all my fault," Angela whispered, her eyes wide with horror as tears trickled down her cheeks. "I did this…"

Ursula looked at her with a raised brow ridge. "How is this _your_ fault, dear?"

Angela turned to Ursula with horrified eyes. "You were right; it's wrong for gargoyles to give their sons and daughters special treatment! But after I found out Goliath was my father… he didn't want to treat me any differently than before, but I kept demanding it, calling him Father and pestering him to call me his daughter, until I got what I wanted! And when we arrived in Manhattan just in time for the battle with Oberon… He told Titania that he'd come to understand the love a parent has for a child, and that's why we _fought_ Oberon instead of helping him, and now look what's happened! Menalippe and Michael… Gabriel… All my fault!" as she sank to her knees and broke down in sobs, while Ursula looked stricken.

"Och, no, lass!" Tom went over to her and rubbed her wings comfortingly. "This disaster isna' of yuir making. We raised all of you as we'd have raised human babes, and 'tis no surprise that ye've come to be as much human in nature as gargoyle. And a human child will raise up empires, or destroy them, to get his parents' acknowledgement that he is their flesh and blood and heir! So ye could blame the princess and I, for having raised you so," as, looking over Angela's head, he cocked a challenging eyebrow at Ursula, "but I'll have none of that; the fault lies solely with Oberon, that spoiled brat of an immortal who breaks his word with us while insisting we keep ours, and refuses ta let us leave now that we're more than ready ta go! Och, I should have killed him while we had him helpless in front of us, when we first forged the bell!"

Goliath shook his head. "If you had, the wrath of Titania and the Weird Sisters would have fallen on you. Titania helped us to beat him that first time, as recompense for helping to save the world earlier-it's a long story. But she would not have let us kill her liege lord and husband. We would have been destroyed if you'd swung that sword."

"And placing blame is useless anyway," Hudson added. "Not when our first concern is getting the lot of ye off this accursed island, and back to Castle Wyvern where ye've always belonged!"

"Castle Wyvern?" they spun around to see Princess Katherine leaning tiredly against the doorframe, having just awoken. Her exhaustion was still etched in her face, leaving her looking gray as Nimrod's hide and far older than her sixty-one years of age, but she straightened up with a touch of her former spirit as she queried, "The castle still stands?"

"Aye, and it stands atop the tallest building in Manhattan! Xanatos bought it and moved it there, and denied it to us for years, but gave it back to us in gratitude for helping to save Alexander. And since that battle resulted in Oberon breaking his covenant with our children, the man canna' deny giving the lot of ye a home there as well!"

Goliath lifted his head at last, his spirits starting to rise as well. "If he dares try deny any of you, he'll answer to me! But first, we must find a way to get you off Avalon. So merely rowing far enough out doesn't work?"

Tom shook his head. "Instead of the mists appearing, the currents will push ye back to land, and break yuir boat upon the rocks for trying."

"So we must convince Oberon to let ye go. And I have an idea of what might do it," as Hudson actually smiled. "Princess, ye recall the old days, when ye called us beasts and monsters?"

Katherine blushed and ducked her head. "Ye've no idea how much I regret ever even thinking such words."

Hudson waved her apology away. "Done is done, and ye've raised our eggs well; that pays all debts. But do ye recall some of the things that were said about us? Particularly during that unexpected breeding season, just after thy father passed on?"

Katherine blushed harder, while Tom looked quizzical; he'd been only a babe in arms then, far too young to remember anything. "Aye. But I know now that most of them were untrue!"

"One or two were true enough. And for the rest, well, mayhap Oberon hasn't been around gargoyles long enough to witness a breeding season, so he'll have no way to know what's true and false. We can hope, anyway," he added honestly, as they all gathered around him with the glimmerings of hope indeed stirring in their eyes. "Now, here's what we'll do…"

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Pilandok the Fey crouched high in a tree just barely within sight of Oberon's castle, hiding while wondering what he should do. No, not what he should, but what he _could _do.

He was not one of the powerful Fey; not at all like Puck or Odin or Zeus. They could command the earth or sky as they pleased, but little Pilandok, who'd been scorned as 'the runt of the litter' more times than he could count, could scarcely do more than create illusions. Even shape-changing, which most Fey could do with ease, was difficult for him and took hours instead of mere seconds. If he blew hard enough he could stir up a breeze to fill the sails of his little outrigger boat, but it took enough energy that he'd preferred to let the world's own winds and tides sail him from shore to shore as he'd explored what many mortals referred to as the Indian and southern Pacific Oceans.

In centuries past, Pilandok had prided himself on being a trickster, using his cleverness and illusions to play tricks on those clumsy humans and outwit them time and time again. Nothing on as grand a scale as Loki or Coyote (or as malicious as Loki's, either), but enough to teach those humans a lesson from time to time; the usual lesson being that they should be kinder to those smaller than them, and that cleverness was better than brute strength any day. But then those humans had gotten clever themselves… and figured out how to temper iron and make weapons out of it. After his third close call with a steel blade, he decided his human-tricking days were over and it was time to just stick to animals for company.

The island of Mauritius had been a good place to live, for several centuries. Always warm, plenty of food, and no danger of any sort other than the occasional bout of nasty weather. . No human or other Fey lived there, so there was no one to bully him about with their greater magic, or hurt him with iron or try to trap and force him to work magic for them. When boredom overrode his sense of self-preservation he'd traveled to other islands and continents as well, letting curiosity guide him, but eventually returned to Mauritius. While he was there he enjoyed watching his pets; the dodos who made their home on the island too. Not very smart birds, certainly no good for conversation, but they had been fun to watch as they bobbed and cooed and clucked at each other in the forests, gorged themselves silly on tambalacoque fruits when they were in season, and danced their awkward courting dances before laying their eggs on the hot beach sands.

Then roughly three hundred and fifty years ago he'd returned to Mauritius, after spending a few decades in the Philippines again, and discovered that in his absence, white men had discovered the island and settled there. White men, and their horrible cats and dogs! Cats and dogs that found the dodos easy prey; with their heavy bodies and tiny wings, the dodos could not fly away and were too slow to run away from them either. Even the pigs that the white men had brought and set loose to root in the forests for their food, seemed to delight in savaging any dodos that crossed their paths. And the white men ate the dodos as well, trapping and shooting the adult birds for their dinners, and scooping dodo eggs out of their warm shallow sand-nests to cook for their breakfasts. By the time Pilandok had returned to the island, its once-burgeoning population of dodos had been reduced to two small flocks.

Pilandok had scrambled to herd one of those flocks to a beach that the white men hadn't settled on yet, and kept them safe there for over a month, but he'd been desperate for another, better solution. He'd thought he'd hidden his outrigger boat well enough, but after gathering the first dozen birds and preparing to go to sea with them, he'd found to his dismay that a group of sailors had found it, and were playing with it like a child's toy! And even as he watched from hiding, one great clumsy oaf snapped the outrigger off as his fellow humans jeered. Without the boat, he couldn't leave the island with his pets, to try to find another safe place for them to live. And he'd spent enough centuries observing humans to know that sooner or later, in their lust for wealth and property, the white men would swarm over and settle on each part of the island, including the beach he'd chosen as refuge. He could hold them off with illusions and trickery for a long time, making them believe some even more powerful, malevolent and fearsome spirit lived there, but he knew that their greed would eventually overcome their fear; the refuge wouldn't last forever. Pilandok himself had still had one way of escaping the island, but it was a way that the poor flightless dodos couldn't use as well, and he'd been reluctant to leave them behind to be slaughtered to the last poor bird.

Then a skiff had arrived on the beach, a skiff with a magical aura he'd recognized instantly; it was from Avalon! A skiff with another of those accursed white men aboard, but this one had seemed different from the sailors on the other side of the island. A mortal servant of Oberon, Pilandok had thought at first; he'd been sure that the skiff had come to take him to Avalon, that Oberon had declared the Scattering over centuries early, and the time for Gathering had come again! But the mortal, who called himself Tom, had known nothing about Oberon or a Gathering. After some confused chatter back and forth, Pilandok had finally understood that a few mortals and gargoyles had somehow sneaked onto the island of Avalon and been living there for centuries, venturing out periodically to see if more gargoyles could be found and brought there.

Pilandok had been both disappointed and bitterly amused. After all the havoc that had been wrought when Fey had fought against Fey in the War of the Courts, the island of Avalon had given voice through the Queen; the Voice that was heard so rarely but that even the King of the Fey obeyed. Avalon had demanded peace to recover from the ravages of war, and Oberon had enforced its will, forcing all the Fey to depart from its shores for a thousand years and setting the Weird Sisters as sentries to ensure none tried to sneak back home. But while there were no Fey on the island, it was perfectly happy to have mortals living on it…

And the dodos were mortal birds, weren't they? Pilandok had seized on the idea in an instant, and imparted it to the mortal Tom. He'd been sure that he'd have to either threaten the mortal with an illusional monster or bribe him with fairy gold to get him to comply, but Tom had agreed to take the dodos back with him to Avalon—and to _not_ feed them to his young gargoyles—without need of either threats or bribes. It had been surprising, to learn that some humans were kindly creatures after all.

Scarcely an hour later, the skiff had been headed back to Avalon with all the eggs and adult birds they could gather in a short time. And once the skiff had been taken back home by the magical mists, Pilandok had climbed a high tree, spent the rest of the day slowly turning his ears into great gliding wings, then let the winds take him away from Mauritius forever.

He'd spent the next few centuries wandering through Africa, finding safe places here and there on the continent (places far, far away from Anansi's hidden city), and staying until more white men and iron came and he felt it was time to move on. And finally, one glorious night, one of the Weird Sisters had come and told him that the Gathering had come at last! He'd been so happy that he'd hardly minded the disgust and contempt in Phoebe's eyes, as she'd grudgingly told him that Oberon had commanded everyone to return, "Even you, runt. Try not to get stepped on before Oberon sees you," before vanishing in a burst of light to tell someone else the good news.

And now he was back on Avalon, but it hadn't taken long at all for him to remember why he'd initially been happy about the Scattering. Anansi had been _delighted_ to see his favorite victim come back within his reach again, as delighted as Pilandok had been dismayed. And then Raven had apparently decided to have a contest with Anansi, as to who was the better tormentor! Finally Pilandok had been forced to hide in the mortals' quarters, cowering under the shelves that Tom kept his armor stored on; being so near to so much iron made his senses tingle painfully, but better that than to endure what Anansi and Raven wanted to do to him! The mortals had taken pity on him, and let him stay after discovering him there; Tom had even draped a wool blanket over him and pretended ignorance when Raven had come by to ask if they'd seen him.

Tom had recognized Pilandok when they'd discovered him, introduced him to the mortal princess and one of their gargoyles, and told him that the dodos were thriving on a southern shore of the island, in a spot that had been made safe from most predators. Pilandok had been touched that they'd taken such good care of the dodos, and swore that he owed them a boon, before shamefacedly admitting that there really wasn't much he could do to repay the favor.

But then something had happened in the world outside; something to do with the great Trickster Puck, he'd heard. Word had spread across the island that when Puck hadn't returned for the Gathering, Oberon had decided to go out and bring him in himself. He'd come back later without Puck but with the Queen Titania on his arm, and rumor was that he'd ordered one of the chambermaids to turn herself into a wet-nurse capable of nursing a part-human babe, before going to the mortal world once more. Titania had quietly followed him a moment later (and had also, so rumor had it, casually blasted back a minor sprite that had tried to scramble through the portal after her.) Several minutes later the king and queen had returned together… but still without Puck, and Oberon had been in a foul temper indeed.

Such a foul temper that the whole island seemed to hold its breath; even the Tricksters laid low for several hours, not wanting to draw any attention to themselves lest the King decide to take out his anger on them. Oberon usually found their pranks amusing, and gave them free reign to prank and torment his other subjects as they pleased, so long as no lasting damage was done. But no one forgot what he'd once done to Loki, who'd been noticed tormenting a weaker Fey while Oberon was in a bad mood; the trickster's screams had no doubt lasted for days, though no one had been able to hear them.

But eventually, Oberon lost the scowl he'd been wearing and the Fey court resumed their usual pastimes, including the tricksters. From where he was still hiding in the mortals' quarters, Pilandok had heard Anansi come to the door again and sweetly inquire of Tom if he had been seen nearby. Tom had once more pretended ignorance of the little Fey hiding under his armor, even though by that point that everyone surely knew it was pretense. Anansi had stalked away, but that time he'd left something behind; a strong thread of spider-silk, magically rendered invisible and suspended in the doorframe at ankle-height. The next person to go through the door, the gargoyle Pericles with a pitcher of water for the princess, had tripped over the thread and gone sprawling.

And Oberon had done nothing. And Pilandok had begun to get very worried. When the Fey had first began returning to their home, Oberon had made it clear to everyone that the gargoyle clan now living on the island was his honor guard and under his protection. And he'd been looking right at Raven when he'd said it, a very pointed look that everyone knew had meant: No Tricks. But now a trick had been played on a clan member, and everyone knew it; the spider-thread had turned visible after being tripped over. But Oberon did nothing to Anansi, no punishment or even a warning… and that meant that his royal protection was now withdrawn.

The Tricksters realized it, too. A campaign of minor tricks began immediately, though the first few were just annoying instead of harmful; testing the waters, in case Oberon decided to officially notice them after all. But when nothing was said or done to them, the pranks started getting worse, and taking a darker turn. The night that the gargoyle Gideon's spear had turned into a python and started to strangle him before he clawed it to shreds, Pilandok had said a sad farewell to the humans and gargoyles and had shamefacedly crept out of the castle, to seek out one of his old hiding places in the forest. He'd gone unmolested by the great tricksters, who found the gargoyles to be much more fun to torment than the little runt.

Three nights ago the gargoyles had fled the castle, and when they'd found that Oberon would not let them flee the island entirely they'd gone to a distant shore and made a sanctuary for themselves there, enforced by iron's knell. Deprived of most of their prey, some of the great tricksters had begun seeking him out again, but so far Pilandok had remained safe; he'd chosen as his current hiding place the branches of the rowan tree that was Queen Titania's favorite. No one knew exactly why Titania had long ago declared this particular tree to be important to her, but… no one crossed Titania. All the other Fey gave this tree a wide berth, touching neither its roots nor its berries. All except Pilandok, who was small and slender enough to crouch in the branches unseen and unheard while he wished futilely he could do something to help his mortal friends…

"Little Pilandok."

Surprise tearing his gaze away from the distant castle, Pilandok glanced down at the base of the tree—and froze in sheer terror. He'd been seen in the tree after all—by Queen Titania herself!

He threw himself down out of the tree to land cowering at Titania's feet, begging unashamedly for mercy. "I touched not a leaf or a berry, I swear I did no harm to the tree, I only sought sanctuary from the great tricksters! Please, your majesty, have mercy and spare this most unworthy runt from the terrible wrath of your displeasure!"

Queen Titania gave his pleadings a coolly raised eyebrow. "Cease your babbling, little one." He instantly fell silent, quivering. "It has been said, that, for a time, you kept company with the humans and gargoyles who dwelled in the castle."

Pilandok swallowed hard. "Y-yes, your majesty. Th-they showed me kindness."

"Indeed. Little Pilandok, this is a time of change for mortal and Fey alike. I have let you find sanctuary in the branches of my tree, not only now but in ages past before the Scattering. And now your queen requires you to do her service."

Pilandok touched his head to the ground at her feet. "As my sovereign commands. Name the service, your majesty."

Titania told him.

Moments later, Pilandok _**screamed**_.

_To be continued! (soon, I promise!)_


	2. Meanwhile, Back in New York

**Escape from Avalon Part 2: Meanwhile, Back in New York…**

Christmas was over, though Christmas decorations were still in display in the castle atop the Aerie Building and there was still some fruitcake sitting on the kitchen counter. Or there was, until Broadway took a knife and cut the last section into two thick slices; one for him, and one for Heinrich. "Here ya go," he said as he offered it with a wry smile. "To wash the taste out."

"Thank you," Heinrich said as he accepted the slice, after a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure that Anne and her young daughter Bethany were out of the kitchen. Anne had just made and cut up a peanut butter sandwich as a late-night snack for Bethany, and given a quarter of it to Heinrich after he'd casually asked what she was making. He'd thanked her, eaten it and smiled at her, but now that they were gone he shuddered and muttered, "And I thought your American beer and 'hot dogs' were bad, lacking flavor! How can that woman feed her child something so… it was like eating paste!" before he stuffed the fruitcake into his mouth.

Broadway shrugged. "I dunno, but Bethany likes it that way, so we keep some Jif peanut butter and Wonder Bread in the kitchen just for them. Now, if you want some _real_ bread for a sandwich, we keep the rye, sourdough and pumpernickel over here," as he opened the breadbox to show a few loaves of bread, then started rummaging in the pantry. "And there are other brands of peanut butter that don't taste like flavored lard; where'd I put the good… darnit, I know it was here!" He finally pulled his head out of the pantry and sighed, "Martha must have moved it somewhere else. I love that female to pieces, but we're still working out how to run a kitchen together."

Heinrich had been in the kitchen frequently for the last few nights, taste-testing Martha and Broadway's recipes for German cuisine, in preparation for the new arrivals. Heinrich's family would be arriving in a week, three days into the New Year, and everyone wanted them to feel welcome. The human family members would be Xanatos' guests for only two weeks, but the gargoyles Helmut, Helga and Gregor would be staying for good and becoming part of the Manhattan clan; everyone was thrilled about getting even more clan members, particularly the hatchling Gregor.

Robert came into the kitchen, with his sketchpad in his talons and a hopeful look on his equine features. "There you are, Heinrich! Here, take a look at this one. Is it any closer to how you picture little Johannes?" as he showed the sketchpad to Heinrich.

Heinrich looked at the sketch of a blue gargoyle hatchling done in colored pencils, and grinned. "That is him, exactly! Wonderful!"

"Glad you like it. I have to admit, I'm pretty excited myself about seeing my art published in children's books," Robert said, smiling as he traced the hatchling's features with a talon-tip. "And art of my own species, at that!"

The stories Heinrich had made up about the gargoyle Klein-Johannes, as entertainment for his nephew Gregor, had been so well received by everyone in the castle that Xanatos decided they should be made into children's books for the general public. He'd had the original manuscripts, all written longhand in journals, sent Federal Express from Berlin Germany straight to the castle. They had arrived on Christmas Eve, and the day after Christmas Xanatos had hired a bilingual transcriptionist service to start translating the stories into English while typing them.

Robert and Isabel, both accomplished artists, had both jumped at the chance to illustrate Heinrich's stories. They had nearly resorted to arm-wrestling each other for it, until Anne had suggested that the stories could be published in two different versions; picture books for very young children and junior novels for older children to enjoy. Since Heinrich was newest to the clan and didn't want to offend either of them with his choice, Brooklyn flipped a coin, and Robert got the picture books while Isabel got the chapter illustrations for the junior novels.

Xanatos was still bound by the restrictions that the Grandmaster of the Illuminati had put on him last fall about helping the gargoyles gain acceptance; among other things, he could not spend any of the millions he had on a good PR campaign for them. (Thankfully, Halcyon Renard of Cyberbiotics was under no such restrictions, and was the primary sponsor for the recently-created People for Interspecies Tolerance.) But if Xanatos happened to acquire a publishing company through a couple of shell corporations, a company that employed an editor who just happened to be the father of a member of the PIT … And if, someday soon, that company just happened to receive a sizeable budget increase just before certain manuscripts landed on that particular editor's desk… well, coincidences did happen sometimes.

Meanwhile, Lexington and Rebecca were inspired by Heinrich's stories and decided to try their hands at programming a computer game, one with a gargoyle as the hero instead of a human! Halcyon Renard had come to the castle for Christmas dinner with his daughter and granddaughter, and the CEO of Cyberbiotics had promised the gargoyles that as soon they had a decent game worked out, he'd see it mass-produced and sold in every computer gaming store across the country. So nearly every hour that they weren't on patrol, the two of them were working side-by-side on their computers in the clan's living room, writing and testing code.

Tonight was Elisa's night off, and she was sitting on the other side of the living room watching TV with Brooklyn and Isabel, when Heinrich and Robert came through after leaving the kitchen together. A romantic comedy was on, and in the wedding scene, the bride had just tossed the bouquet. But instead of heading for any of the women who had been waiting in a group to catch it, it went wildly astray and landed far to one side, in the arms of the little boy who'd been the ring-bearer. Brooklyn pointed at the screen and laughed, "Just like at your wedding to Goliath, Elisa!"

Elisa crossed her arms and grumbled, "That was totally not my fault!"

Heinrich stopped in his tracks and stared at them. "Pardon me; perhaps I did not hear correctly? Elisa, you had a-a _wedding_ to Goliath?"

Elisa glanced over her shoulder at him and nodded, saying distractedly, "It was half wedding, half mating ceremony; we combined traditions for it." Then she turned back to Brooklyn, insisting, "You know Bethany used magic to pull that bouquet to herself!"

Heinrich's eyes were wide. "Goliath… the clan leader I have been told about? Elisa, you are _**married**_ to a gargoyle?"

That brought everyone around to look at Heinrich, suddenly tense. Elisa glanced at Brooklyn and muttered, "Nobody told him?"

Brooklyn said with a trace of dismay, "With everything that's happened lately, I guess it totally slipped everyone's minds!" Then he stood up to face Heinrich squarely. "Yes, Heinrich; Elisa is mated to our clan leader Goliath. Their love is enough to cross the species boundary. And yes, everyone else in the clan approves of the match."

"Everyone in _two_ clans approves of them!" Rebecca said fiercely, jumping up from her computer station. "The New Orleans Clan is okay with gargoyle-human pairings, too! Our clan leader is half-human!" Then she blinked, and corrected herself with an embarrassed look, "I mean, their clan leader. Sorry, old habit…"

"It's all right," Brooklyn briefly assured her, before turning to Heinrich again with a stern look as he firmed his stance and his wings unfurled; the temporary clan leader preparing to discipline one of his warriors. "If you want to stay in the Manhattan Clan, Heinrich, you need to accept the fact that sometimes gargoyles and humans fall in love, and it's perfectly okay if they do."

Heinrich had been just standing there looking dismayed, but now said hurriedly, "You misunderstand; I have no problem with gargoyle loving human! I am just surprised that a human loved back. I…" His gaze dropped to the floor as he mumbled, "That was not my experience…"

Postures all around the room shifted from defensive or challenging to sympathetic. Robert, who still treasured his memories of his human mate, rested a hand on Heinrich's shoulder as he asked quietly, "You had a human girlfriend once?"

Heinrich kept staring at his feet. "I thought I did… After it was all over, the others told me that I had tried for something as impossible as being awake by day; that gargoyles and humans can be friends if they are raised together, but can never meet as adults and learn to love. But now I know that they were wrong, and it was just my bad luck again."

"Want to talk about it?" Brooklyn said, coming over to lay a hand on Heinrich's other shoulder, his expression sympathetic. "I've got a lot of experience in being jilted…"

Heinrich didn't want to talk about it at first, but he eventually relented and they made room for him on the couch while he told his story:

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

In the fall of 1974, Heinrich was feeling particularly lonely and discouraged. Helmut and Helga had been mates for two years by then, and in 1973 had produced an egg together, even if they had no idea when it would hatch—or even if it would hatch, though they kept turning it and keeping it warm all the same. Their human friends and caretakers were happily married with children, everybody had somebody to love… except him, the unlucky one.

Then that September, they received another coded message indicating that someone on the other side of the Berlin Wall was hoping for the services of the _Rettende Engels_ to sneak them over the Wall; only one person instead of a family, a young woman. It wasn't Heinrich's turn to go for a solo rescue, but Helmut and Helga were on a three-night vacation to the Black Forest, so rather than call Helga back for her turn Heinrich volunteered to go.

He slipped past the watch towers and guards on the Wall with practiced ease, landed on the roof of Paul Lowhard's laundry business that was their pickup point, and crept into the attic. There he found the young woman with the one suitcase they allowed passengers, drugged unconscious as required… and beautiful. So very, very beautiful that for long minutes Heinrich just sat next to her, watching her breathe, almost afraid to touch such beauty with his talons; he had the wild idea that she would fade to homeliness if he did, like the fabled way a unicorn would fade into a dun horse if touched by any but a virgin's hands.

But she didn't fade, once he finally recalled himself to duty and gathered her up in his arms, with her suitcase strapped in place just above his tail. And he wondered, just for a moment, if it was because he himself was virgin… then shook off the fancy with a sharp mental reminder of the mission. A beautiful woman would bleed and die as easily as anyone else if he didn't evade the patrols and watchtowers while going back over the Wall.

The flight back was dangerous but without detection, and soon they were well past the Wall without any shots fired. Heinrich took his passenger to a nearby public park, carefully setting her down in the usual dropoff spot, a small shed that Gregor had clandestinely built ten years ago while legitimately employed by the city parks department. To a human approaching from the outside, it would have appeared to be a perfectly normal park maintenance shed, where one would expect the custodians to keep mowers, rakes, hedge clippers and such. But the apparent door with an old brass doorknob was in fact completely fake; the door seam was just a shallow groove cut into the wood, and the doorknob opened nothing. The roof to the shed had a skylight that the gargoyles used to get in and out, and the real door for humans to use was disguised from the outside and could be opened only from the inside.

Heinrich set his passenger down and made her comfortable on the wide bench installed in the shed, put the usual card with her instructions (stay hidden in the shed until she heard no one nearby to witness her emergence, tell no one about either the attic she'd fallen asleep in or the shed she'd woken up in, and she could go to a certain local restaurant for her first meal in freedom) into her hand, and took the agreed-upon passage fee from her suitcase. Then, after a moment's guilty hesitation, he checked her papers to find out her name: Krystyana Muller. There was also a piece of paper with the address and phone number for a couple named Paul and Adelheid Muller, in another part of West Berlin.

When Heinrich left the shed to return home before dawn, it had been with Krystyana's name and the address of Paul and Adelheid Muller scribbled onto the back of a 100-deutschmark bill.

When Helmut and Helga found out that Heinrich wanted to start up a friendship with a passenger, their reactions ranged from worried to furious that he would risk their safety. Even Heinrich's promise that he would only write letters, with the return address being a post office box that Gregor would check for him, had done little to assuage their worries. But when Gregor and Sophia agreed that it was worth a try, and Sophia pointed out that she'd been able to accept the gargoyles after their first meeting, they said nothing more against it. The next day Gregor rented a post office box for Heinrich to use, and that very night he wrote to Krystyana care of the other Mullers' address, a simple letter expressing hopes that she had arrived safely and been given a warm welcome. He'd signed it, 'your rescuer, Heinrich'.

Krystyana's return letter was prompt, and all that Heinrich dared to hope for and more. Her letter almost sang of the joy she was feeling to be free of the Soviet's iron grip at last, after ten years of discreetly seeking a safe way across the Wall, and of how her cousin Paul and his wife had welcomed her with open arms. She ended the letter with a promise that she would tell no one of her mysterious journey across the wall, and her hopes that Heinrich would write back to her; she would like to stay in touch with him.

That began the Season of Letters, as the rest of Heinrich's family decided to call it. Heinrich and Krystyana exchanged at least four letters a week, writing so often that Gregor joked he would have to put a special provision for stamps in the monthly budget. The gargoyle and human wrote each other about music they liked, books they had read, and what they had been doing lately (though Heinrich's letters were deliberately vague on specifics.) Krystyana wrote about how she loved to work with dogs and had been an elite dog trainer before her escape over the wall; she was having a hard time finding work as a dog trainer in West Berlin, but in the meantime she was happy to work as a secretary. And that she was single; when her old boyfriend in East Berlin had declared he was moderately comfortable under Soviet rule, she had dumped him like used dishwater two weeks before her escape.

First autumn, then winter swept over Berlin, as the letters continued to dash back and forth. Krystyana found work as a dog trainer, at first just part-time with the dogs of neighbors but when others saw how quickly dogs responded to her and learned obedience, she received more and more clients until soon she was able to open her own obedience and specialty training school. Over the holidays, Heinrich and Krystyana wrote each other about their families' Christmas celebrations. Soon after New Year's Day, Krystyana moved out of her cousins' home into an apartment of her own; she made sure Heinrich had her new mailing address.

Then, after four months of letters back and forth, Krystyana asked if she could finally meet Heinrich face to face. Heinrich's heart had leaped into his throat when he'd read those words, but his return letter had warned her that he was not pleasant to look upon; that he had 'a deformity' that upset most people.

Krystyana's return letter said that she had no concerns about any deformity; that she could tell from his letters that he was kind and brave and had a great sense of humor, and that how people treated others was much more important than how they looked.

Heinrich literally danced for joy on reading her response, but Helmut and Helga reined in his enthusiasm and warned him of the dangers of exposure. So Heinrich wrote to Krystyana that he would like to meet her, but the meeting would have to await a specific occasion.

Two weeks into February, the occasion arrived. Fasching, the week-long 'fifth season' of parties to celebrate the joy of living, before the sober 40-day-long season of Lent. With a little cheerful conspiring from Gregor and Sophia, Heinrich got his hands on an invitation to a costume ball and suggested to Sophia that they could meet there, in costume.

If he'd been able to, Heinrich would have worn a pirate costume and pretended to be the famous Blackbeard; he'd enjoyed pirate stories when he'd been younger. But instead, he worked with what he had: wings and horns, talons and a tail, all the classic features of a devil straight from Hell. He put on a floor-length black robe to cover his legs and tail, but with slots cut in the back to let his wings out, since he couldn't hide his horns and knew he might possibly need to make a quick getaway. After a few practice applications over the last few nights, as soon as Heinrich woke up on the night of the costume ball, Gregor and Sophia applied tape and a thin layer of gray papier-mâché to his wing joints, both to make them look fake and as a physical reminder for him to hold them perfectly still. Then Sophia helped him put on the thin gray gloves she had sewn for him, to help others believe that his four-fingered hands were also just a costume. Once the costume was assembled, they took the bakery truck and dropped him off a block away from the party, wishing him the best of luck.

He walked into the costume ball with his heart pounding, feeling as nervous as a cat in a roomful of sleeping dogs. He'd never been around so many utter strangers before in his life—and they were all awake! And looking at him! Any minute now, someone would start screaming—

But all they did was smile at him and give him compliments on his costume. It was working!

He kept a firm grip on the book he was carrying, holding it so the title could be easily read by others. He and Krystyana had agreed in their letters to say nothing about their costumes so both would be surprised, and that for identification they would each carry a paperback book at all times: _Durch die Wüste_, by the popular author Karl May.

He had the most exciting and bizarre half-hour of his life, making small talk with strange humans and trying hard to act as if he did this sort of thing all the time. And then he heard someone say questioningly, "Heinrich?"

Heinrich turned around and looked down, and found himself face-to-face with an angel.

A woman dressed in a flowing white gown, with white feathered wings strapped to her back, a white feathered mask on her face and a shiny brass halo hovering over her head. And, most importantly, a copy of _Durch die Wüste_ held in her hands. So far as Heinrich was concerned, it wasn't the costume, but the book in her hands and the joyous look in her eyes that made her an angel.

His heart started pounding, but he still said cautiously, "Krystyana?"

She nodded eagerly. "It's me. Heinrich, I'm so happy to meet you at last!"

"So am I," he managed to say despite his suddenly dry throat. He had so much to say to her, had gone over and over in his mind the few things he could say while they were in public—and suddenly he couldn't think of any of them. His mind had gone utterly blank! Desperate for something to say, he finally stammered, "Good costume."

She looked him up and down and said with a wry smile, "Thank you, but it's nothing compared to yours! So detailed…"

"Th-thank you. I worked a long time on it." At least four decades, he added privately, while craning his neck this way and that to watch her as she circled him. He realized she was nearly a foot shorter than him; for some reason he'd thought she'd be taller standing up.

She reached out and stroked his wings, and he had to stifle a gasp at the intimate contact; it was everything he could do to keep them from shivering. "They feel like leather; aren't they terribly heavy?"

"I…I am used to the weight; I practiced a lot."

She came back around to the front, smiling still. "But no cloven hooves or tail, I see."

"A tail would get stepped on in this crowd." Which was part of the reason why it was currently wrapped around one leg, and reflexively squeezing tighter every second she was smiling at him like that. He forced himself to loosen it a little, before he cut off his own circulation. "As for cloven hooves, there were limits to what I could manage," he said with an attempt at a nonchalant shrug. Then he dared to suggest, "So, instead of a devil… call me a gargoyle."

Finally, he managed to turn the conversation back to her, by asking about her dog-training school and her family. Krystyana was happy to talk about her life, in even more detail than she usually put in her letters. And when she asked him questions in return, she didn't seem to notice that his answers to her questions about his work and family were as vague as they always were in his letters.

As they spoke together, he absent-mindedly accepted a card that someone else in the crowd handed him, a large white card with the number '17' boldly stenciled on it, and tucked it into his copy of _Durch die Wüste_. And some time later, there was an announcement made over the loudspeakers; all those who had been handed numbered cards should come to the stage for the costume contest. Heinrich paid the announcement no mind, until Krystyana said excitedly, "Heinrich, they want you on stage!"

His heart jumped into his throat, but too many people had heard her and were now looking at him expectantly; if he tried to duck out of the attention, he'd only draw more to himself. So he let Krystyana tug him up to the stage, where he lined up with nineteen other people in costumes ranging from cowboys to astronauts, aliens to elves. He personally admired the costuming skills of the woman dressed as a were-cat (and thought it odd that she seemed even more nervous about the approaching judges than he was), but he obediently took two steps forward, turned slowly in a full circle and stepped back into line when it came to his turn.

Ten minutes later, he was bemused to find himself in possession of an envelope with 100 deutschmarks in it, the cash prize for best costume. The judges praised his efforts in making such a detailed costume as they awarded the prize. One praised his excellent four-fingered gloves, but another commented that in his case the deciding factor had been the two minor tears in Heinrich's right wing, the puckered scar in his left wing and missing tip from his left horn. "You look battle-worn from all the fighting in the pits of Hell, and even more authentic!" he said cheerfully. Heinrich thanked the judges for their words of appreciation, while thinking wryly that he would have a much harder time thanking the Soviet soldiers who had shot the holes in his wings and the tip off his horn, over the years of going back and forth over the Wall.

Then Krystyana gently tugged on his arm to come with her, and they left the party hand-in-hand to walk out to the nearby park; the same park he'd dropped her off in after her rescue last fall. Heinrich's heartbeat thundered in his ears, so loud that he couldn't help wondering if she could hear it too.

She led him right up to the shed she'd woken up in, then smiled at him. Her movements deliberate, she took off first the white feathered mask, then the halo, then her strapped-on wings and angelic robe to reveal sensibly warm street clothes underneath. She was as beautiful as the night he'd first seen her; even more beautiful, with that look in her eyes… Then she said softly, "Your turn."

Heinrich hesitated, swallowing hard. "Krystyana… remember what I wrote to you, weeks ago. My true appearance upsets most people."

She nodded, still smiling encouragingly. "Some sort of deformity; I remember. But as I wrote to you, how someone treats others is much more important than how they look. Show me, please."

He nodded, slowly. Then he took two steps back, closed his eyes while taking a deep breath, and flexed his wings twice. The sharp movement cracked the papier-mâché façade that his family had plastered over his wing-joints, until the façade fell off them in flecks and scraps. Still too cowardly to open his eyes, he took off the long robe to reveal himself in his undershorts while uncurling his tail around his leg, and said quietly, "That is all I can take off."

There was still no sound from Krystyana. Finally he opened his eyes, just in time to see hers roll backwards in her head as she collapsed onto the grass; she'd fainted dead away.

Looking at her crumpled form on the ground, Heinrich felt like his heart had cracked apart and fallen to pieces on the grass with the papier-mâché. But he put her inside the shed to keep her out of the weather; putting the costume robe she'd worn down to cushion the hard bench, and his own robe over her to keep her warm. Then he glided home, after a detour to sit on a church rooftop where he could shed tears over the cruelties of Fate without anyone knowing.

Back home, Helga, Helmut and Gregor all sympathized with him and told him to just forget about Krystyana. But Sophia urged him to write to Krystyana one more time; to apologize both for making her faint and for leaving her to wake up alone in the park. Knowing it was the courteous thing to do, he wrote all that… then dared to write one final line; that even if she never wanted to see his ugly form again, he hoped they could still exchange letters.

For three days there was no reply. Then on the fourth evening, when Heinrich awoke Gregor handed him a letter that had arrived in that day's mail, from Krystyana. He read her words first with dread, then with hope and joy springing anew in his heart; she not only wanted to continue writing letters to him, she wanted to meet him again!

Four evenings later, he prepared for their second meeting by showering, putting on some of Gregor's cologne, showering again to wash the cologne off, and dressing in the very best clothes he owned. He'd fretted for the past three nights over what to bring with him to the meeting—flowers? No, she surely wasn't ready for more than cautious friendship yet… he finally decided on another book, a copy of Ranier Maria Rilke's _Letters to a Young Poet_. Rilke's words were inspirational, encouraging the poet to follow his heart; he hoped the gift would encourage Krystyana without being obviously romantic.

Half an hour before his date, his family wished him luck and he set out for a glide across the city to where Krystyana had asked to meet him; not at her home or the park, but the warehouse that she rented for her elite dog training school. He landed on the rooftop at five minutes till the hour—a little early, but not too early; Gregor had beat it into his head that he mustn't appear to be too eager for the relationship to work—and looked down to be sure the coast was clear before descending further. The street was empty, except for Krystyana waiting on the stoop.

Sternly telling his heart to settle down and stop trying to pound its way out of his ribcage, he spiraled down to land feather-gentle near the stoop; not so close as to alarm her, but close enough to make it clear who he was there fore. She was white-faced and trembling slightly, but stood her ground… not as promising a greeting as Sophia's a decade ago, when she'd marched up and firmly shaken the hands of her gargoyle rescuers, but Heinrich was just happy that she was there.

He greeted her, apologized for keeping her waiting even though he knew he wasn't late, and handed her the book he'd brought, saying the words he'd rehearsed over and over; "A gift, to apologize for frightening you the first time." She stared down at the title and said nothing for a long moment, so he asked hesitantly, "Have you read it before?"

She swallowed hard before saying in a not-quite-whisper, "No, I haven't." Then she said in a louder voice, "Would you like to come inside, before someone else sees you?"

"I would very much appreciate that," Heinrich said gratefully, already nervous about the possibility of a car passing by even though the businesses in this area had all closed hours ago.

She opened the door, and gestured for him to go inside. Heinrich knew that normally ladies went first, but he wasn't about to say so under the circumstances; he thanked her and stepped inside with his usual quickness—people with tails learn to go through doors fast. He paused after a few steps inside, to look around the first room; a waiting area of some sort. Hearing Krystyana come in after him and close the door, he turned around—

And got some vile stinging spray right in his face.

Bellowing in pain and protest, he tried to wipe the noxious stuff off, barely conscious of other sounds in the room; a door opening, a sharp whistle, and footsteps running past him to slam open and shut the door to the street. And a lot of rapid clicking sounds on the floor, with rising growls… He finally cleared his eyes enough to see again, and squinted as he looked around, to see a full dozen dogs surrounding him; Doberman Pinschers, Pit Bulls, and other breeds that he didn't recognize but knew instinctively were bred and trained for attacking.

The thought flitted through his head that this was supposed to be illegal; these dogs were considered as dangerous as guns, and no one could own more than two of them! But illegality wasn't as important right then as the fact that they were all focused on him, hackles rising, growling louder…

He tried to back towards the door with a weak and silly "Nice doggies," but he didn't even get to the second syllable before they attacked.

Then it was all pain and blood and barking and growling and roaring and slashing and fighting for survival…

The red haze across his vision finally lifted when he found himself facing a corner with the last dog cowering in it, cringing and whining as it begged in canine fashion for him to spare its life.

He turned around to find himself in a different room than before, one with the walls lined with dog cages, and spattered with blood and gore. The torn and dismembered corpses of four dogs were between him and the only door. Adrenaline was still afire in his veins, but it could not completely mask the pain coming from his tail, his wings, his legs, nearly everywhere on his body; he could not tell at first glance how much of the blood covering him was his own, and how much was from the dogs.

He limped out the door to find the waiting room he'd been in originally, now liberally coated with gore and the remains of seven more dogs. He yanked open the door to outside, to see Krystyana staring at him in shock and horror before she turned and bolted.

Covered with blood and seething with fury, Heinrich broke into a limping run on all fours after the screaming woman, chasing her for two blocks before finally cornering her against an alley wall. When she could run no more, she began crying and begging for her life, even her very soul.

"How someone treats others is much more important than how they look," he snarled at her, a bitter reminder of what she'd said to him barely a week ago. "I treated you with every kindness… and you betrayed me! You tried to kill me!"

He was too furious to dare touch her; the urge to hurt her, to even rip her heart out as payment for breaking his, was far too strong. So he wiped a hand across himself, coating it with canine gore from the dogs he'd had to kill, then flung the bloody mess at her to spatter across her face and hair. She flinched as he roared, "_**You could have just said 'don't write back**__'_**!**"

Then he turned and scaled the alley wall, leaving her sobbing behind him.

It took him hours to limp back home, with his wings too torn to glide; he cursed himself over and over for daring to hope, for not realizing sooner that it was a trap, and for not packing the first-aid kit he always brought on missions. When he finally reached safety with less than an hour before dawn, all the adults worked on treating his injuries together. But they could not treat everything in time, before the sun rose…

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Back in the present day, Heinrich said with a bitter gesture to the mangled stump of a toe on his right foot and his slightly truncated tail, "When I awoke the next sunset, the ends turned to gravel instead of flesh… and fell off."

"They'd been too badly mangled, and didn't get enough blood supply before you went to sleep," Brooklyn said sagely. "Gargoyles are actually better off than humans that way; we get gravel instead of gangrene."

Heinrich nodded acknowledgment of his words, then finished resignedly, "So, I never saw or heard from Krystyana again. That is my story; unlucky in love, as in everything else."

"You were a lot nicer to that cowardly betrayer than she deserved," was everyone's general consensus. Rebecca added, "In your place, I'd have knocked her unconscious and then flown her back over the Berlin Wall!"

"You definitely deserve better than her," Elisa said as she gave Heinrich's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. "Hey, there's a local organization here, the People for Interspecies Tolerance, that knows about gargoyles already and are supporting coexistence; Brooklyn and Lexington have even been to their meetings! Maybe you'll find a girlfriend among friendly humans on this side of the Atlantic."

"Perhaps, but… please do not be offended, Elisa, but if there is a chance I would truly prefer to be with a gargoyle instead of a human woman," Heinrich said apologetically.

"No offense taken," Elisa assured him with a wry smile. "Believe me, I know how hard it can be to build a relationship across species."

"Maybe Yvette will like you, or Angela!" Rebecca said with a grin. "Or maybe Marie, but she's awfully vain about appearances… and even if she liked you, you probably wouldn't want her anyway."

Heinrich gave first Rebecca, then the others a startled look. "There are other gargoyles besides you and the ones who boarded the plane? Single lady gargoyles?"

"Yup; three of them altogether," as Brooklyn nodded. "Angela's a member of this clan, and Yvette and Marie are part of the New Orleans clan."

Heinrich looked increasingly hopeful as he asked, "Then… when may I meet these lady gargoyles? Where are they now?"

"Um… that's a problem," Brooklyn admitted, ruefully scratching his mane. "See, just before we left New Orleans to come up here they hopped aboard a boat and rode a magic spell to the island of Avalon. To go mate-hunting, because there are at least three single males in the clan living on that island with the Fey…"

The hope in Heinrich's face died. "Of course. I am here, and they are seeking mates far away." He shook his head. "It is always my luck…"

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

The next day, Anne made sure that Alexander was napping in his crib and Bethany was quietly occupied with a coloring book she'd received for Christmas, before she stepped out of the nursery to go to the kitchen. Bethany had announced she was hungry a short while ago (she was constantly hungry lately; Anne figured her little girl was going through another growth spurt), and she thought some baby carrots would make a healthy afternoon snack.

As Anne headed for the kitchen, she passed under a sprig of mistletoe hanging over a doorway. She glanced up and smiled fondly, remembering the kiss she'd received under it on Christmas Eve, when Matt had stopped by before going to work. Matt didn't personally celebrate Christmas, but he had been happy to help the people living in the castle celebrate it, particularly Anne and Bethany. And the clan had been more than happy to help Matt help celebrate it; shortly before Matt had arrived, Lexington and his mates had run through the castle grinning and putting mistletoe over all the doorways Anne usually walked through, and right over her favorite chairs in the nursery and living room. (She'd actually had to stop Lex from going too far and tacking a sprig up over her bed!)

When she reached the kitchen, Anne found Owen there, setting a few of the Christmas cookies that Broadway had baked onto a tray. He glanced up, nodded to her and gestured to the cookies, saying, "A snack for Bethany; the hot cocoa will be ready shortly."

Anne was surprised at the gesture (and mildly dismayed, not that she let it show; between Broadway, Martha and now Owen, it seemed like everyone was conspiring to keep her daughter on a constant sugar high!) "Why, thank you! That's very thoughtful of you. How did your checkup go?" she asked with concern; after having been tortured by Thailog for over 30 hours straight, Owen had collapsed shortly after his rescue and been bedridden for most of the next three days, coming out only to see Bethany and Alexander open their presents Christmas morning.

"Quite well, thank you. I shall be returning to full duties tomorrow."

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

In his office, David Xanatos looked up from the contract he was reading when his intercom discreetly pinged. His castle security monitor on duty, Jameson, told him, "They're together in the kitchen right now, sir."

"Thanks," he said as he hurriedly got up from his desk and strode out of the office. He'd asked Jameson several hours ago to keep a closer eye than usual on the internal cameras, and let him know the minute Anne and Owen were together in any room besides the nursery. ( Jameson had just nodded without asking questions, which Xanatos appreciated in a security officer.)

He entered the kitchen saying jovially, "Do I smell hot cocoa?" as if that was the real reason for his visit.

"Indeed, sir," Owen said as he poured some into a mug and handed it to David as if that was what he had been intending to do all along. David thanked him and blew on the cocoa to cool it, while turning away slightly so he could pretend not to notice Anne quietly getting another mug out of the cupboard and Owen skimping on the amounts poured into the three mugs on the tray. CEO's did not have awkward moments over hogging the hot cocoa.

After taking an appreciative sip or two, he put on a concerned expression, turned back to them and asked Anne, "How are the kids doing?"

"They're both in good spirits; Alexander is napping at the moment, and Bethany coloring."

"Any magic today?" he asked, even though he knew the answer already; he'd hooked the feed from the nursery camera to his computer terminal, so he could reassure his still-anxious subconscious that his son was safe at home without getting up to check every ten minutes. Six days since the kidnapping, five days since they'd been rescued from Thailog, and everyone was still jumping at shadows.

Anne shook her head, her expression turning from a polite smile for her employer into a worried frown. "Not so far, sir. They've shown no interest in Magic-Catch or levitating any of their toys… Would you like me to ask them straight out to try doing magic?"

David glanced from Anne to Owen. "What's the expert's opinion? Do we force the issue?"

Owen shook his head. "I would recommend we wait at least one more day; the memory of pain may still be too fresh in their minds. If they've shown no interest in spontaneously performing magic by sunset tomorrow, then yes, they should be asked directly to do so."

Anne looked down at her shoes. "If only we hadn't asked them to try doing magic while we were imprisoned in that steel cell…"

"It's spilt milk now; no sense berating yourself for it," David said firmly. He turned to leave, then paused and turned back to say casually, "By the way, Anne, I don't know if you're interested in this or not, but the house that your former husband grew up in is being torn down tomorrow. It seems that Phillip's great-uncle Quentin Marsden sold the place and moved to Florida, and the buyers determined that it would take too much effort to bring the old house up to modern building codes; they're tearing it down to the foundations and building a new structure in its place."

Anne looked at him curiously. "How did you learn that?"

Xanatos lied easily, "Oh, there was some hue and cry from local people who wanted to preserve the house as a historic landmark, but couldn't raise enough money to buy the place themselves, or get the city council to stop it from being bought and torn down by the buyers. As a human interest story, it got all of ninety seconds of air time on the news, and I happened to be watching at just the right moment. They caught my curiosity when they mentioned the name Marsden and the city of Scranton, and I decided to dig a little deeper when I had a spare minute or two. Anyway, the house is going to be torn down; hope that doesn't upset you."

Anne sniffed in disdain. "Hardly. I visited that house with Phil only one time, before we got married, and once was enough. Phillip's great-uncle didn't even come to our wedding; he said that if it wasn't performed in his own church with him personally presiding over the ceremony, then as far as he was concerned we were living in sin! He's never even laid eyes on Bethany, and he never will. Good riddance to him, and to that old house."

While Anne had been talking, Xanatos had glanced at Owen out of the corner of his eye, but Owen's face never changed expression. However, for just a moment, his aide's fists clenched before relaxing again. So Xanatos continued, "Not too fond of the old boy, hm? Then allow me to indulge your _schaudenfreude_ a trifle. It seems Quentin Marsden left town under a bit of a cloud. You're aware of how Phillip's mother died?"

After automatically glancing at the kitchen doors to make sure no children were within hearing range, Anne nodded and said grimly, "Phil told me, just before we went down there to announce our engagement to everyone in his hometown. His mother hung herself in the kitchen when he was 12 years old. She left Phillip a note on his bed saying that she was sorry, but she just couldn't live like that anymore. And another note inside his favorite book, with information about a secret bank account she'd made for him; one that his great-uncle didn't know about. There was just enough money in the account to finance his auto repair classes."

Xanatos nodded, then said, "Well, I found out while indulging my curiosity about the old place that the police had recently reopened the investigation into Penny Marsden's death, after an anonymous tip that it wasn't a suicide at all; that she had been murdered, and Quentin Marsden had done it. Quentin was finally cleared and the investigation ended, but by that time it had been brought to notice of the church authorities. And the week before the investigation was closed again, Quentin was ousted from the pulpit he'd been manning for nearly forty years, in favor of a much younger pastor fresh out of seminary school."

Anne's smile was just a touch vindictive. "I probably should feel sorry for him… but I don't. He should never have had that pulpit in the first place! I don't know how the church could let anyone like that lead a congregation, when it should have been obvious that he had no real love in his heart, from the way he treated his own family!"

She shook her head before continuing, "Phil told me about what his life was like while growing up under that old man's thumb. The beatings he used to get, for just about anything he did that his uncle didn't specifically approve of first… He said that if it wasn't for the Wilson family who lived two doors down letting him escape to their home on a regular basis, almost every day after school and on weekends, he might not have survived his childhood. And when Phil's mother died; their uncle wouldn't even let her be buried on church grounds! In fact, Penny wasn't buried at all, just cremated by the city, because Quentin refused to pay a dime of the expenses; not even for a memorial urn or plaque. And you hear all sorts of horror stories about boarding schools, but after his mother died, his uncle shipped him off to a school in my hometown; that's how we met. Phil told me once that if not for finally being out of that house for good, he might have hung himself too. So I say again, _good riddance_ to Quentin Marsden. I hope he falls asleep on the beach in Florida and gets nasty sunburns all over his body."

Xanatos smiled in amusement. "My goodness, Anne, that's the most vindictive thing I've ever heard you say about anyone."

And Owen spoke at last. "From what she just told us, sir, I dare say it was fully warranted."

"Oh, I'm not disagreeing," Xanatos said hastily. "In fact, let's hope he falls asleep while on a nude beach! _That_ would result in sunburns both very painful and very embarrassing."

Anne gave a giggle-snort and agreed, while Xanatos thought for a moment about arranging for that to happen... No, a former Lutheran pastor in his late 70's wouldn't be apt to frequent nude beaches. Questions would be asked about how he ended up there, and the answers might lead back to New York. He'd have to be satisfied with making the man lose his job and move away from all his friends and cronies in his hometown.

In truth, Xanatos had almost been glad when Quentin Marsden had initially refused to sell his home to the real estate developers that Xanatos Enterprises had control over. That had given him an excuse to lean on the authorities down there, to take that anonymous tip he'd phoned in about Penny Marsden's supposed murder seriously. Though after what Anne had just told him about Phil's childhood, he now wished he'd leaned a little harder, and gotten the old bastard arrested instead of just investigated.

Well, spilt milk and all that; at least now the last Marsden was out of that house, and it was going to be torn down. Completely demolished, including the foundations. Hopefully that would work…


	3. Desperate Measures

**Escape from Avalon, Part 3: Desperate Measures**

On the magical island of Avalon, as the night aged and dawn grew near, Coyote sat cross-legged on the plains outside the forest the gargoyles were staying in, absently chewing on a blade of grass as he kept watch for the approach of Fey tricksters. And he reflected, not for the first time, on the sheer irony of the situation. He was a Trickster himself by nature, and under other circumstances he would have been joining his brethren in playing pranks on any mortals foolish and unfortunate enough to be in their territory. But these were definitely not the usual circumstances.

Within the hour of Anansi tripping up one of the gargoyles with a line of magical spidersilk, Oberon had sent out a summons for all the Great Tricksters. Anansi, Coyote, Hermes, Ti Malice, Nine-Tails, Eshu and Raven had all exchanged nervous glances with each other—with several accusing glances being directed at Anansi—then gone to the appointed meeting chamber. (Once upon a time their group would have included other great tricksters, but no one knew exactly what had happened to Puck, and no one wanted to talk about what had happened to Loki.)

Oberon's summons had led them to a little-used chamber for meetings, with Oberon himself waiting within, along with the Weird Sisters. What Oberon had to say was brief, but spoke volumes in implication: "I have sworn that the gargoyles will be immune from my arts, and may stay on this island as my honor guard. I have stated in court that they are under my protection. Therefore, I will not allow any of my subjects to _kill_ any of the gargoyles, either directly or indirectly. Is that clear?"

Raven had been the first to grin as the tricksters had all chorused back, "Very clear, my liege." So the gargoyles wouldn't be killed… but Tricksters knew better than anyone else that there were myriad ways to torment somebody without killing them. By not allowing them to be killed, Oberon was technically still keeping his word to the gargoyles, but he had effectively declared Open Season on the entire clan.

But not every Trickster had chosen to take Oberon up on the implicit offer. Nine-Tails had gracefully bowed out, claiming that to play tricks on any gargoyles would be at odds with a promise she'd once made to a gargoyle clan living in Japan. Then she'd talked her current lover Eshu into refraining as well, soothing him with the reminder that fellow Fey, who could detect his magic where mere mortals often could not until too late, would be more challenging and therefore more worthy prey.

Hermes said he agreed with Nine-Tails about fellow Fey being more of a challenge, but added with a merry glint in his eye that he might pull a trick or two if he thought of something particularly appropriate for gargoyles. Ti Malice had mused with glee that he'd never played tricks on gargoyles before, as they'd never been native to the lands he'd chosen to frequent in the mortal world, and he would have to think of some really special tricks just for them. While Anansi and Raven had all but pounced on the nearest gargoyles with magic and illusions at the ready; evidently other gargoyles had spoiled their fun in the mortal world, and they were eager to take their vengeance on the nearest available targets.

But Coyote owed the gargoyles a debt, since without the aid of Goliath and Angela he might not have been able to bring Peter Maza back to the way of his ancestors, or begin his subtle work on Beth Maza, whose blood carried the brightest spark of her generation. He was none too happy about the Gathering having been called before he was finished with her, but since he was stuck here until Oberon deemed otherwise, he thought he might as well see to the gargoyles and indirectly pay the debt he owed. Particularly since Raven and the other tricksters were going well beyond the acceptable level of trickery and pranks, and were edging closer and closer to the fine line that lay between traditional fun trickery and the Fey equivalent of warfare. And Raven had just plain crossed the line, with what he'd done to that pair of lovers…! So Coyote, who'd occasionally been referred to by the Hopi Indians as The Contrary One, had decided to go contrary to his own nature and act as a guardian to the gargoyles, protecting them from the other tricksters as best he could until some way appeared by which they could _**all **_get off the island.

His musings were interrupted by noise coming from behind him, and he turned to see Guardian Tom and Princess Katherine walking out of the forest surrounding the New Green, heading towards Oberon's Palace—and accompanied by two gargoyles he hadn't expected to see here; Goliath, and an elderly gargoyle that just had to be that Hudson he'd heard about. They were walking too, because Goliath was plainly in no condition to fly; his wings had been rent in several places, one of them wrenched so badly it was dragging the ground, and he was liberally peppered with bruises and cuts, some of them still oozing blood. Hudson limped alongside him in similar shape, though not as bad, and Tom's armor showed signs of recent abuse. Coyote couldn't help saying as he got to his feet, "What the-? Whoa, I'd hate to see the other army!"

"'Twas no army that did this, nor any of thy kinsman," Katherine said bitterly. "'Twas our own eggs! We must see Oberon, ere worse befalls this entire island!"

"Say _what_?" as he fell in step with them. "The gargoyles did this?"

"Yes," Goliath groaned. "Our own children… The breeding season approaches," as he looked Coyote right in the eyes. Then, the eye that wasn't already bruised and swollen shut deliberately winked at him.

Coyote stared in confusion for a moment, before realization hit him; then he discreetly winked back. "Right, the breeding season! Hey, that's really bad news! Oberon has to know about this as soon as possible. Hold on, and I'll take you to the Palace myself!" He summoned a whirlwind for transport, reflecting that if the opportunity he'd been hoping for had just arrived, he was certainly going to do his part to get them and himself out of here!

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Coyote's whirlwind picked up the entire party and transported them across the meadows and valleys in mere moments, and they touched down directly in front of the Palace. The first beings to see them were the gargoyles on duty at the gates, Angus and Orion; the two gasped at the sight of them, and demanded to know what had happened, threateningly brandishing their weapons at the air around them as though hoping to get a lucky shot at the Fey responsible.

"Ye'll learn soon enough what happened," Tom said darkly. "Now, we must see Oberon!"

Wide-eyed, the gargoyles let them pass. Fairy music and laughter could be heard from within the walls, sounds that died around them as they made their painful way through the corridors to the grand hall where Oberon held court. At the doors to the court, they met two more gargoyles: golden-skinned Hippolyta and her mate, crimson-toned Gideon, who up until a few moments ago had been silently grumbling over now being dressed in baby-doll outfits, courtesy of Raven. Their clothes were forgotten, though, when they saw their guardians and the bedraggled elder gargoyles. Their worried queries also answered with vague forebodings, they opened the doors and gestured them inside.

Oberon's Court was filled with bored-looking Fey, desultory chatter and occasionally with muted laughter, which abruptly died in an ever-widening circle around the injured parties as they staggered steadily towards the thrones. Oberon was present though Titania was not, and the king of the Fey scowled at the first sight of Goliath and Hudson, until he bothered to look closer and saw their injuries; the scowl softened slightly as he raised one eyebrow in a darkly intrigued expression.

At a respectful distance from the throne, the party of humans and gargoyles went to their knees and waited. "You may approach," Oberon said with an uncaring wave of his hand, and they got to their feet, though it took two tries for Hudson to do so, groaning with the effort. Katherine hurriedly helped him to his feet, then turned and shot a deadly glare back at Hippolyta and Gideon, who'd been worriedly peeking inside. Astonished to have such a glare directed at them, from the woman who'd raised them from eggs, they froze for a moment before hurriedly shutting the doors to the hall. This exchange was not lost upon the watching Fey, and several eyes narrowed in speculation as the Coyote and the four mortals approached the throne. Coyote bowed respectfully and announced, "My liege, these mortals bring news of a grave threat to the peace of this realm."

Oberon lifted an arrogant eyebrow. "A threat to _Our_ realm? Do tell."

Grandmother, the Fey who'd helped them and received their help in return against Raven, stepped forward from the crowd to bow to the throne. "Pardon my interruption, my liege lord; I cannot but help but notice that two of this party can barely stand. Please permit me to take a few moments to treat their injuries, that they may be better able to pass on their message and clearly answer your questions afterwards," as she bowed again.

"You may," Oberon said grandly, as Grandmother approached them and gently took Goliath's arm. Her wrinkle-wreathed eyes were anxious as they peered into his; she seemed actually worried about him, and Goliath felt a surge of hope through his pain. Coyote moved a bit closer to Grandmother as he said almost timidly, "If you please, good Grandmother, there is still a bit of foreign matter in this wound here…" Their heads close together for a moment and out of sight of the rest of the court, he gave her a swift wink.

Grandmother's expression smoothed, as her long silver hair began rising up and flowing like water over gargoyle limbs. In seconds, she silently but efficiently healed Goliath and Hudson of their injuries. But when her silvery hair returned to normal and hanging down from her head, the blood from the gargoyles' injuries had not been washed away with the healing, leaving them still looking far from well. Katherine said with genuine gratitude, "Thank you, good Grandmother. I hope ye'll never need to do this for one of yuir own…"

Oberon scowled again as he overheard that. "Who would _dare_ to do this to one of Our Children? Speak up; who is Our enemy?"

"Time is your enemy," Goliath said as he straightened up and faced Oberon. "Time, because it is running out. The breeding season is nearing. Your honor guard must leave the island of Avalon before it comes upon them, as it has upon my daughter Angela. It was she who caused the worst of these injuries," Goliath said darkly, as gasps of shock rippled outwards.

"Your own daughter?" Oberon gave them a perplexed frown. "Explain."

" 'Tis quite simple, yuir lordship," Hudson shrugged, as if it were obvious. "Angela's season came upon her before we expected it. It may have something to do with the magic of this isle, bringing it upon her earlier and faster than we could anticipate it; we could not isolate her and the best male in time." He shrugged again. "It could have been worse, really; less than a score of humans died as a result, and most of our own warriors lived to heal at sunrise."

"It was bad enough," Goliath growled, as he glared at his elder. "How long do you think we can keep those bodies hidden?"

"Well, we still could-"

"Don't even think it!" Goliath snapped, before turning to Oberon again. "Forgive me, Lord Oberon. The last few nights have been most trying, and some things are better left unvoiced, lest they sully your fair people's ears."

Which, of course, only made the assembled court lean even closer to catch every last tidbit of information. Oberon commanded them, "You will tell Us everything."

"As ye wish," Hudson shrugged. "We thought all was well until two nights ago, when we returned from patrolling our own isle to find that Angela's breeding season had come upon her. Our younger warriors were battling each other for her favors outside, when they weren't killing every creature, human or beast, that they saw and bringing her the bodies. A female in season must eat great amounts of meat, y'see, and since we had no herd of cattle ready to give her…" he left the rest unsaid.

Grandmother wasn't a Trickster by nature, but she clearly knew a cue when it presented itself. She gasped, "I had forgotten that; it's been so long since I'd last witnessed it! The madness of a breeding season, when all your kind can think of is the fever in their blood. If not for it lasting so short a time, with a full gargoyle generation between each breeding season, the forests of the world would be stripped bare of life for meat and never able to recover."

"You may be right, Grandmother. I have often thought that one of the reasons humans generally fear and hate us so, is that once upon a time a human witnessed a breeding season, and found the breeding gargoyles' behavior so terrifying that he taught all of his kind to fear us," Goliath said heavily. "In my clan, if we had let the warriors continue to battle and feed her, eventually Angela would have bred with the one who'd impressed her with the most kills and fresh meat. I chose instead to stop the slaughter, though it nearly killed me to do so without succumbing to the breeding fever myself. We forced her into a room with thick walls, let our best warrior go in after her, barred the doors and hoped for the best. Earlier tonight, after sunset, we opened the doors, hoping to find them both sated. But we had neglected to throw more meat in with them; her belly had not been full when we'd forced her in, and the warrior was already bleeding from battling with his brothers…" Again, he left the rest unsaid.

After a pause to let it sink in, during which a few Fey gasped in dismayed realization, he continued, "I could not risk any more of my warriors, so we bound her after a fierce battle and brought her to your island with us, hoping to catch a strong and healthy male alone, let them mate, and spirit her away again once the worst of her season had passed. We knew that she had been in the world for several months, compared to the few paltry days it has been for those who dwell on this isle, so we were sure the remaining females on this island would not be in season yet. But they will be soon, and Oberon, you do not want to be on the same island with over a dozen young females going into season at the same time! They and their suitors will strip your forests bare of all living creatures, while killing any who dare to stand against them."

"Aye, we'd feared that such would happen," Katherine sighed. "I'd seen a breeding season before, back in Scotland; we had to leave the castle to them entirely while the madness raged, and we came back to find nearly everything breakable broken, every larder emptied and the forests cleared of all game larger than field mice. When we howled about the damage and about the money we had to pay our neighbors, for food enough to survive the winter, my father merely reminded us of what great warriors were bred of such passions, and told us to instead thank God that it normally came only once every twenty-five years! And it's now been nearly fifty years, by my bones' reckoning, since that breeding season; time enough for our eggs to hatch and mature into adults.

"Tom and I knew we would have to leave the island before the eggs came of age, lest they kill us outright; they would grieve later, when their blood cooled, but by then 'twould be too late for us. Ere the Magus died, he warned us it was coming soon, but in all the recent troubles," as she risked a quick glare at the assembled court, letting them know she had not forgotten all the indignities that had been heaped on them, "we forgot about their time nearing, until a boat appeared on our shores tonight bearing Goliath half-dead, Hudson little better, and Angela bound in thick chains and yowling like a cat, all her reason gone to the fever in her blood!" She sighed. "Gabriel saw her first, and took her, and I wish the puir boy well. And her as well, puir lass, for she'll surely come to regret being bound to a speechless mate, but right then we didn't dare interfere!"

"Aye," Tom agreed fervently. "He tossed me aside like a rag doll, the second he caught her scent! Speechless or no, he's still one of the strongest 'eggs'. That gives him a better than average chance of surviving her, though. Oberon, for the sake of your own Children, you must let ours leave the island, and soon!"

Oberon had been listening to the story, his expression combining skepticism with a trace of slowly growing disquiet, as if he was halfway convinced of their words despite himself. Now he broke in with a sardonic, "A charming little tale. Though I wonder as to how much of it is truth."

Goliath's eyes flared white, and he growled, "You doubt my word? Then doubt your own eyes! Did we not come here with wounds suffered from our own children's hands?"

Tom broke in with a sarcastic, "If our own blood's not enough to satisfy ye, Oberon, then use that magic mirror yonder," as he gestured at Titania's mirror, standing off to one side of the hall, "to seek out Angela and Gabriel now. I'm sure ye'll find it entertaining!"

Oberon raised an arrogant eyebrow, but answered the challenge and summoned the mirror with a gesture. "Show me the gargoyles Gabriel and Angela," he commanded.

The mirror's surface swirled in fog, then cleared, to show a horrific sight. A bloody heap of carcasses of deer, boars and other wild game was stacked against a tree somewhere in the forest, piled higher than the average man could reach. Bones scattered all about the pile showed that it once had been considerably larger. The body of Gabriel flopped against one side of the pile, covered with blood instead of his customary tunic. He wasn't dead, though; his chest rose and fell, and a somewhat ludicrous smile adorned his face. (It contrasted badly with the rope of intestine still draped over one horn.) A creature perched atop the pile, that had once been Angela; now it was a naked and gore-covered she-demon, that purred contentedly as it gutted a rabbit with its teeth.

"Such a messy eater," Hudson tsked, but the rest of those who could see into the mirror gasped in dismay or even outright horror. The sound traveled through the magical conduit, and once-was-Angela's head jerked up. Her rage-reddened eyes met those assembled in court, and a snarl of pure fury bubbled out of her throat, as she leaped for the aperture that had revealed her to them. A few of the weaker Fey involuntarily shrieked in fright as Oberon hurriedly severed the contact, before the she-demon could come through and attack them.

Coyote said in a very small and shaken voice, "My liege lord, I think perhaps we should be glad of the current… situation with your honor guard, and the relocation of their sleeping perches. Otherwise Goliath's craft would have brought him to the shores of the Palace, instead of the New Green, and there might have been Fey bodies in that horrible pile."

"Aye, when the season is upon us, any flesh is meat," Hudson agreed sadly. "And while those in a breeding fever prefer to fight with bare talons, they've been known in the past to remember the use of weapons when fighting, such as steel blades…"

And steel had cold iron in it, which was deadly to Fey physiology. Oberon scowled at the implication. But the next words out of his mouth were not what Goliath and the others had been hoping to hear, announcing that the gargoyles were free to leave immediately. Instead, he declared, "If the members of my honor guard are prone to behaving as mindless and dangerous animals, then they may be treated as such! I-"

"_My lord_." The voice was sharp and curt with anger, and echoed throughout the great hall. Oberon shut up and all heads turned to see Titania, Queen of the Fey, standing at the other end of the hall, with a small limp body in her arms.

Titania regally glided forward, her feet not touching the ground, and the crows silently parted before her, their gazes riveted on what she was carrying; a small Fey with overlarge ears, and a left arm that ended halfway down in a bloody bandaged stump. Someone whispered in horrified recognition, "Pilandok?"

She was beautiful and terrible in her wrath, the Queen of Air and Darkness. Titania glided past the clustered gargoyles and humans, ignoring them as she addressed Oberon directly. "My liege and husband… I am greatly displeased by recent events. I most humbly request that you grant me full authority, to deal with the gargoyles and all involved as I see fit."

The tone of her voice said plainly that if he didn't give her what she wanted, Titania would be greatly displeased with her husband as well. Arrogant he may be, but Oberon was not stupid; he said immediately, "You have full authority; whatever you wish, it shall be done."

"Thank you." Titania turned then, to face the assembled gargoyles and humans as they stared back at her, frozen in place—whether by her powerful magic or by sheer terror, even they couldn't say. After a moment of regarding them as pitilessly as a raptor would a mouse, she turned away to lay her burden gently on the floor. "But first, a moment for mercy… be healed, little one."

The small Fey called Pilandok whimpered in pain and shock as his bloody stump was surrounded by green sparkles of magic, and new flesh began to appear; a whole forearm and hand springing forth from the stump like desert flowers blooming after rain. Titania gave him a nearly maternal smile, saying softly, "Hush, my brave little Pilandok; your magic is weak, but your loyalty is strong. Hush and be at peace, knowing that for your loyalty, you have my protection now and ever after. Anyone, mortal or Fey, who ever attempts to harm you again will instantly face my wrath."

Anansi had been edging closer to the dais and raising himself up on all eight legs to see what had happened and was now happening to one of his favorite victims; at his queen's words, he abruptly raised a foreleg, paused, then silently lowered it and skittered backwards into the crowd.

After healing the small Fey, Titania turned to face the gargoyles again as she intoned grimly, "And now for those at the heart of the recent disruption in Avalon's peace."

Goliath spoke carefully, knowing that if he simply protested that none of the gargoyles would have hurt little Pilandok so grievously, the façade he and Hudson had done so much to promote would fall apart like wet tissue. "My lady, we were unaware that any of your-"

"Silence," Titania said curtly, cutting him off with a gesture—and Goliath found his teeth clicking shut of seemingly their own accord, nearly biting off his tongue in the process. "I am aware of all that has happened recently, and why." After a beat to let that sink in, she added, "I am also aware that prior to the Gathering, when King Oberon underestimated what mortals are capable of and was helpless at your feet, you were merciful and spared his life. Because of that remembered mercy towards my liege lord and husband, we will be merciful to you and yours now. No harm will come to any of the gargoyles and humans on this island… but you must all leave, before this night is over, and return to the mortal world. No gargoyles will be welcome here until after the breeding season has passed and the eggs have been laid; only then may you most respectfully petition to return."

"But my Lady, will we then inflict these slaughtering monsters on the humans in the outer world?" one of the assembled Fey cried out, showing an unexpected burst of sympathy for his favorite playthings. "To play tricks on them is one thing, but to summon monsters to devour them is another!"

"_We are not monsters_!" Goliath's voice rang out. "But we are predators, and when the breeding season is upon us we must have prey! That is why we traditionally go to the farthest wilds when the season nears, unless we are bound by oath to protect a castle, as we were at Wyvern. Once the breeding season is over, we return to full sentience." Then he added as an afterthought, "Though even after that it's still dangerous to come near a pregnant female; her mate will be so protective that he may gut you just for looking at her." Then he returned to addressing the Fey's concerns. "We know of wild places on the American continents, far from any human dwellings, that we can take all the young to before their season starts. Queen Titania, I give you my oath as a gargoyle that they will harm no humans or Fey during their breeding season."

"I accept your oath, Goliath." Titania nodded to him, then turned to Oberon, who was scowling; possibly at the pointed reminder that he'd once been at the gargoyles' mercy, a fact which Goliath was willing to bet most of the Fey hadn't known about their king. She gave her husband an even deeper nod, with a quiet, "By your permission," then turned to the assembled Fey and declared, "The gargoyles will be leaving immediately, and untroubled by any of Oberon's Children. We will not have their departure hindered by pranks!"

"My liege lord and lady, I can create a seaworthy vessel large enough to bear them all away at once," Odin offered unexpectedly.

"And I'm just stupid enough to volunteer to go with them, to direct the ship where Goliath wants to go instead of letting Avalon decide for them," Coyote said with a half-smile. "Trust me, I'll be right back as soon as their ship touches shore!"

"See that you are," Oberon said curtly, while Titania merely nodded acceptance of his offer. Then the gargoyles were dismissed from the assemblage.

The party left the grand hall with decorum but with all due speed. When they walked through the doors, they were greeted by an ashen-faced Gideon and a wildly weeping Hippolyta, who had overheard enough of the conversation to be terrified of the future. "Princess, I swear, I would never eat you!" Hippolyta wailed. "I'd sooner gut myself! I'd sooner go aloft at dawn and be shattered!"

Goliath and Hudson looked embarrassed, while Tom and Katherine regarded her sympathetically. "There, there, dear egg… We won't be in danger. Goliath has promised he'll see us to safety," Katherine crooned.

"Aye, lass, we'll watch out for them," Hudson said gruffly. "And it won't be as bad as ye fear. Even Angela will be her old self again in no time. Ye'll see, it'll be all right." But Hippolyta wouldn't stop weeping, even as she and Gideon followed them out into the courtyard.

Once out in the open, Goliath roared loud enough to bring every gargoyle within earshot running to see what was the matter. "Oberon has released you from your duties! Find all your rookery siblings on duty, and report to the New Green immediately!" he ordered, and they scrambled to obey.

"I will bring your vessel to the shores of the New Green in one hour," Odin said abruptly, and walked away. Coyote gave another half-smile and said, "Think it's safe for me to accompany you back?"

"Safety is a relative term," Goliath reminded him with his own half-smile. "But you may accompany us as far as you wish, and I'll do my best to keep you from being eaten."

"You're a real pal, Goliath," as he summoned a whirlwind to bear them back to the New Green.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Deep in a forest grove near the heart of the New Green, Gabriel cautiously opened one eye, then whined softly, in a querying tone. He stopped abruptly, grinding his teeth in frustration.

Up on top of the bloody pile, Angela correctly interpreted the doggish sounds as meaning, "Do you think our charade worked?" She answered honestly, in a bare whisper, "I don't know yet. Just keep lying there. Unless you want to 'wake up' and join me in the bloody feast instead. Oh, I've never wanted to take a bath so badly in all my life!" she muttered. "And I've eaten so much raw meat, I'm going to be _sooo_ sick."

Still, she tore into another bird carcass, being sure to fling bloody feathers and bones every which way for maximum effect.

Gabriel decided to wake up and join her, and the two of them ate messily, snarling at each other occasionally just to keep up appearances. That's how Goliath found them, a short while later. "Good work," he grinned. "We're free to leave, all of us." Angela whooped for joy and threw her deer haunch aside, but Goliath cautioned them, "The charade isn't over yet; you'll have to be 'savage beasts' again as soon as they stop ringing the bell, and even be netted and bound for appearance's sake, until our ship's safely away from these shores."

"I have to keep eating raw meat?" Angela groaned. "I swear, I'm so sick of it now, I'll be a vegetarian for the rest of my life!"

Gabriel snapped his fingers for attention, then pointed to Angela and pillowed his head on his hands. Goliath nodded agreeably. "He's right; pretend to sleep soundly after your orgiastic feast. It will be easier that way for us to 'surprise' you later, and bind the 'breeding female and male' for the others' safety during the voyage." He coughed once, a little embarrassed, then said, "I'm afraid we were a little too successful at the charade, so don't be surprised if you see your own rookery siblings staring at you in stark horror as well, when we bring you aboard."

Angela just grinned. "Maybe I should become an actress, after we get back!"

Goliath shook his head and snorted. "I'd say, 'over my shattered gravel,' but then you'd be gliding to Hollywood the very next night. How did I beget such a contrary daughter?" he asked the universe at large. Turning serious again, he said, "Pretend to sleep now; it should be just a matter of hours before we come for you. And you needn't be quite so enthusiastic about 'resisting capture' this time."

Angela and Gabriel both slumped their shoulders guiltily, as Angela moaned, "I don't want to do it at all! Not again; the first time was hard enough!"

"I know," her father said solemnly. "But it was necessary; it made our tale all the more believable." He sighed as they all remembered the macabre scene inside the gargoyles' hut, with Gabriel grimacing and Angela weeping outright as, under stern orders to _not_ pull their blows, they had punched, kicked and slashed at their unresisting elders.

Goliath and Hudson had borne it stoically, knowing that sunrise would heal them of any damage done, even the black eye that Goliath insisted Gabriel had to give him. As it turned out, they had not even had to wait for sunrise, thanks to Grandmother's kindness. Returning to the present, Goliath told them, "Just seem as if you're in a satiated stupor until we actually cast the nets over you. That should minimize the damage all around." He turned to leave, then remarked casually over his shoulder, "Mated pairs would curl up together."

Gabriel and Angela looked uncertainly at each other; sticky with blood and gore as they were, cuddling together was absolutely the last thing they were interested in. Finally, Angela sighed, and gestured for Gabriel to come up and join her. He slowly climbed up the pile of game that it had taken ten gargoyles, two watchbeasts and two determined humans over half a night of furious hunting to catch and kill. (It wasn't all meat, though; Goliath had put a fair-sized boulder down to start the pile, to make the height even more impressive and the scene more appalling.) She curled up into a ball like a hatchling, and he curled up around her, loosely draping one arm over her torso. Other than that one point of contact, they did their best to get close without actually touching each other, and waited in uneasy silence for the "capture party" to arrive.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Back in the hut at the center of the New Green, Jade and Turquesa were fretting about having to abandon their duties as caretakers of the transplanted vegetation and join the other gargoyles in leaving Avalon. "This is no home for gargoyles any longer!" Tom reminded them. "If ye dared defy Titania's decree and stayed, ye'd become playthings of the Fey Tricksters fer sure!"

"But who will ensure the safety of the New Green after we leave?" Jade demanded. "We swore we'd see it thrive and grow, and protect it from those who would destroy it!"

"And thrive and grow it has aplenty, in just the two weeks ye've been here! I'd say yuir plantings have already doubled and tripled in size! Avalon's magic loves plants, and it'll make sure that the New Green grows well, without ye two having to baby along every seedling."

"He's right," Goliath said as he entered the hut. "The New Green will thrive without you, so it's best that you leave with us now, and not only to give credence to the tale we spun. If we left but you stayed, then eventually the Tricksters among the Fey would decide to target you. And their magical pranks on you could end up destroying what you've worked so hard to preserve." Pausing a moment to let that sink in, he continued, "Coyote has said he will guide us to where we want to go. If you'd rather rejoin Zafiro and Obsidiana in protecting the Green of the outer world, I can ask him to take us there first."

The two Guatemalan gargoyles looked at each other and agreed to rejoin their fellow guardians. Hudson sighed, "Now that that's settled, and those young who know the truth have been warned to keep their mouths shut until we're safely away, I think it's time we had a bit of peace and quiet while packing."

"Aye, with pleasure!" as Tom went up the ladder to the steeple that housed the bell. Moments later, its ringing stopped, with the gargoyle on duty saying fervently, "Finally! I hope I never hear another bell ever again!" A short while later, Tom came back down the ladder with the bell cradled under one arm. "Goliath, if ye'd do us the great favor of disposing of this bell, somewhere far from here..."

"It would be my pleasure," he agreed as he took it, stuffing his huge fist inside the bell to muffle it while he carried it briskly out of the forest. He launched from the nearest cliff, soared upwards and outwards until he was sure he would be barely visible to the Fey he knew were watching, and made a great show of heaving the bell as far as he could into the ocean. Once done, he returned to the hut, to find Grandmother and Lady of the Lake reassuring the gargoyles that the New Green would grow and thrive under their care, as would the near-extinct species of animals that Tom had brought to the island in his travels.

Little Pilandok was at the hut as well, with two large flightless birds clucking and pecking at the sand near his feet. After checking to be sure that no Fey were within easy listening distance, Goliath crouched down to the little one's eye level and said quite seriously, "I am glad Queen Titania healed you… and still unclear on how you were so grievously injured. Which gargoyle did it, and when?" Because whoever had done that to the little fellow was in for harsh discipline indeed; Titania could have done so much worse than give them what they actually wanted…

After a quick look around for himself, Pilandok leaned forward and whispered to Goliath with a conspiratorial air, "No gargoyle hurt me at all. My queen explained to me that she would have to show King Oberon and the court that she had some reason to be very angry with you gargoyles, before Oberon would give her full authority to 'punish you' and let you go free."

As the realization sank in, Goliath openly gaped at the little Fey. "You mean… your queen _did that to you herself_?"

Pilandok swallowed hard but nodded. "She is my queen; I could not and would not disobey or stop her. But she does nothing without good reason… and her plan gave me a part to play in aiding my mortal friends after all, repaying the boon I owed Tom and Katherine. And now the entire court knows I am under her protection; Anansi and the other Tricksters will never make me their plaything again! So it all worked out for the best, yes?"

Goliath nodded slowly. "It did indeed."

_She does nothing without good reason_. The words echoed in Goliath's head afterwards, along with questions about how exactly Titania had known of the gargoyles' desperate plan at all, let alone why she had decided to aid them in it. He though he'd understood why Titania had aided his clan's children during their first meeting on Avalon; it had been repayment for his aiding her mortal guise of Anastasia Renard in the Australian Outback. But that unknowing debt had already been repaid, so why…? Eventually he decided to push the thoughts aside and focus on more practical matters, such as what the clan needed to pack before leaving.

There wasn't much to pack; gargoyles traditionally owned little more than the clothes and weapons they wore, and Tom and Katherine had abandoned most of their belongings already when they'd left the Palace. By the time Odin came to the shore nearest the Green, they were nearly all ready to go. Hudson looked at the ship Odin had brought, a great Viking ship complete with a dragon head at the prow, and laughed sorrowfully. "Lad, can ye see the irony of it?"

"I can indeed," as Goliath shook his head. "It was a ship like this one that brought the Vikings that destroyed our clan at Wyvern, and now this one shall carry our children to safety. As Elisa would say, life is full of ironies." The thought of seeing Elisa again soon quickened his steps as they went down to the beach.

Odin dismounted from his magical steed Sleipnir and greeted them gravely when they approached. "This ship will carry you wherever you wish to sail. And you may need to use these," as he gestured, and chains made of tempered bronze fell out of the air to pile at his feet, "to bind your breeding pair for safe transport. You will find shackles also ready for them, down in the ship's hold."

Goliath looked flustered for just an instant. "Ah…yes, thank you."

Odin shrugged. "Merely a sensible precaution, considering the crowd of 'potential prey' aboard, and the crowd that will doubtless gather to see you off." Then he regarded them both gravely for a moment. "Goliath, you should know that the memories of what my Eye had seen, in the centuries we were apart," as he pointed to his right eye, which had once been an empty socket, "were given to me when the Eye was returned. I have learned much more about mortal dealings, in this fashion… And I have seen gargoyles in centuries past, during their breeding season."

Goliath looked at him warily, inwardly cursing in words his clan didn't know he knew, but fighting to keep his expression and voice smooth. "I see. And…?"

Now there was no mistaking the twinkle in Odin's eye, as he flashed them a brief but wide grin. "And I wish you and your kinsmen well in the outer world." Then he clapped his massive hands on their shoulders in a comradely fashion, saying, "Breed strong sons and fine daughters!" before mounting Sleipnir again, and the magical steed sprang into the air.

Hudson exhaled gustily as they watched him gallop across the night sky towards the castle. "Whew. For a moment there, I thought we'd gambled and lost all."

Goliath nodded as he exhaled just as heavily, "So did I. We can be _very_ thankful that Odin harbors no ill feelings from when last we met." Then he stooped to pick up the chains that Odin had left in the sand. "Come, it's time to prepare our 'breeding pair' for transport."

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Still curled atop their bloody pile, Angela and Gabriel had actually started to doze off when their sharp ears picked up the faint sounds of creatures moving quietly through the brush, heading towards their clearing. "They're coming," she breathed, and Gabriel tightened his grip around her waist for a moment in acknowledgement. Remembering their instructions, they kept still, faking their slumber until they heard a deep male voice commanding, "_Now_!" They sprang up, snarling and yowling, just as the nets were thrown over them.

Still voicing her fiercest battle-cry as she pretended to struggle with the net for a moment, Angela took a fast head count of their 'captors' and saw Hudson, eight of her rookery sisters, and three Fey surrounding them, the tallest Fey having a rack of antlers that would make any stag green with envy. With Fey among the party, they'd have to keep up the charade, even though she inwardly winced at the terror, disgust and pity she saw in some of her sisters' eyes. She began battling the net for real, and behind her heard Gabriel growling and snarling as he did the same.

One of the Fey, a wisp of a fellow with huge eyes and fiery red hair, stared at their struggles as the other gargoyles rushed in to grab the nets and drag them off the bloody pile, and said worriedly, "Herne, are you sure those nets will hold them?"

Herne the Hunter gave a toss of his antlered head in offense at anyone doubting him and said scornfully, "Of course! Moonlight, starlight and spider-silk went into their weaving; they can hold any living creature, when used under a full moon." They he glanced upwards and remarked casually, "Of course, the moon is waning a bit…"

The other Fey hurriedly floated out of potential harm's way, as Hudson bellowed orders to their rookery siblings. "Easy, lasses, we don't want to hurt them if we can avoid it! We can't afford to risk the egg that's starting inside her! Here, I've got his tail, one of you grab that foot and tug-and down he comes! Quick, grab his arms, force his talons to shred dirt instead of us! Now, five of ye hold him down, while we tackle her next!"

Angela was also dragged off her feet and subdued in short order, and Hippolyta wept as she held down her left arm. "Sister, we don't want to do this; please don't fight us!" But she had to, or risk the Fey realizing the deception. So she wriggled her tail free of somebody's grip and lashed out with it; a yelp of pain told her she'd hit another sister, poor Antiope from the sound of it.

Deborah panted as she held down Angela's other arm and stared across at Hippolyta, "And this is going to happen to us in a few months? I'd sooner greet my last sunrise than turn into this!"

"There's no call for suicide!" Hudson said sharply. "The breeding season lasts less than a week, and it won't happen again for another twenty-five years. Hoy, you lot!" as he addressed the waiting Fey. "Did ye grow roots, or are ye going to fetch those chains now?"

Two of the Fey scurried off to fetch the bronze chains from the clearing where they'd been left, so their noise wouldn't alert the 'prey' ahead of time. Herne the Hunter stayed behind, and walked slowly around the naked, netted and spread-eagled gargoyles. Angela snarled and struggled even harder, her eyes blazing her anger and humiliation under his appraising gaze. "A good strong male, and a lusty female if ever I saw one!" he said loudly. "You're sure to get a fine egg and hatchling from this pair!"

"Aye, if we can get them safely away from here," Hudson agreed, as the other Fey came running up with the chains.

Now the question arose of how to get the breeding pair bound in chains without risking further injury to anybody. Herne offered, "I know a spell that I've used on beasts that were gravely wounded by hunters, to ease their struggles until I can deliver the mercy blow. It won't harm them, but it will calm them until we can bind them properly."

Hudson eyed him warily, but agreed to let him use it. Herne walked over to Angela's head and crouched down, staring upside-down into her face, as twinkles of fairy light danced among his antlers. She snapped at him, really wanting to take a bite out of the arrogant bastard, but he kept his head and hands just out of range, as he crooned "Rest now… Easy, child… Sleep now, meek and mild…" Then, unexpectedly, he winked at her.

Angela stared at him for a moment, wondering just what that wink had meant; then she decided to risk it. Though she'd felt no spell of sleepiness take hold, she let herself go limp. Herne nodded approvingly, lightly touching her blood-matted hair. "Good girl. You'll have a fine healthy egg eventually." Then he got up and went over to Gabriel, repeating the procedure. Gabriel snarled with real hatred in his eyes and nearly bit off Herne's nose, and had to be winked at twice before getting the message and going limp as Herne crooned his "spell." "A real warrior, good and strong. He'll sire great eggs indeed," Herne said as he briefly touched Gabriel's mane before standing up again, the fairy lights that had danced in his antlers winking out. "The spell will last for roughly a quarter of an hour, so I suggest we hurry with those chains."

The chains were hurriedly secured around them, wrapping them from neck to knees, till all they could do once the "spell" wore off was snarl and lash their tail tips at their captors. "Aye, that'll do to keep them out of mischief," Hudson said with a satisfied nod. "Let's get them on their feet… Now, ye four grab the lead and anchor chains. Ye four gather up some of their kills; they'll be quieter if we feed them. Take all ye can carry; they've got tremendous appetites now!" as Hudson grabbed a deer and slung it over his own shoulders. He figured that after the charade was over, they'd use the meat in a proper feast, to celebrate their escape.

Once they'd loaded up on meat, Herne even helpfully hefting a pair of wild boars for them, they set out for the ship. The party proceeded in a more or less orderly fashion, though Gabriel decided once to unexpectedly fling himself to the side of the path just as one of the Fey floated past, and knocked the wisp unconscious when he fell on him. Hudson just sighed as he helped heave Gabriel to his feet again, knowing that the lad was just taking what revenge he could on the Fey, for his lost rookery siblings and for the curse that had stolen his own voice.

Eventually, they made it out of the forest and down to the waiting ship. Goliath was aboard, as were several others; Ursula, Yvette and Marie had been sneaked aboard at the first opportunity and told to hide belowdecks until they were underway. Goliath saw their party coming and bellowed, "All males take to the air, and stay well upwind of the breeding pair until we have them safely below deck! Any who dare to come close enough to scent them will get my talons in their tails!"

All the young male gargoyles scattered as fast as possible, as well as a few of the more flighty Fey who'd assembled nearby to watch them leave; Hudson couldn't help a brief snicker as he beheld the sight. (_Not a bad lot of actors, we are_,) he thought to himself. (_We should be on the television_.)

Gabriel and Angela were hauled onto the ship and shoved down the hatch to the hold below, struggling and snarling for their audience every step of the way. Once Hudson came back up and indicated the pair had been chained in place for the voyage, the gargoyles came aboard, and lined the rails of the ship for a last look at the island of magic and wonder, where they'd been hatched and raised in peace and joy until just a few months ago. Several of them were weeping outright, though as Tom and Katherine went among them and whispered comfortingly, they couldn't say whether it was for grief at losing their past or for fear of their coming future, personified by the 'breeding pair.'

Once all were aboard, including Coyote at the rudder, Oberon and Titania appeared on the shore. Oberon gave a pompous speech full of idiocy about fledglings leaving the nest and suchlike, making it sound like he'd been planning to do this all along for his honor guard. Hudson thought the pompous windbag needed some deflating, and he had just the sharp steel tip to do it, but he held his tongue and his peace, knowing it would be over soon enough. And as soon as Oberon paused for breath, Titania said loudly, "Well said, my lord husband. Three cheers, Children of Oberon, for these brave mortals!"

Hudson grinned and silently blessed the lady, as most of the Fey obediently cheered, and Oberon gave Titania a dirty look. While the others cheered, Odin inhaled deeply, pursed his lips and blew, his breath magically filling the ship's sails and pulling them away from shore.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Soon afterwards, the mists of passage surrounded the ship, hiding it from the view of those ashore. Oberon and Titania had already transported back to the palace (Oberon in a poorly concealed huff over having his speech cut short), and most of the Fey followed soon after, but Herne stood next to Odin, still looking out to sea, and remarked, "A good sendoff."

"Aye. And well earned; 'twas a good show they gave us."

"That it was," Herne agreed. "If I hadn't already encountered a breeding clan of gargoyles, long ago in the wilds of Great Britain, I might have been taken in as well. That 'breeding pair' put on the finest show of savagery I've seen in centuries." He chuckled, thinking to himself that they'd more than earned the minor fertility blessing he'd bestowed on them instead of a calming spell. When their breeding season did come, they'd be assured of fine eggs indeed.

"So I've heard. But 'tis the two elder gargoyles I salute, for their courage in allowing themselves to be abused so, for the sake of the story. Even with their ability to heal in stone come sunrise, it still took more courage than I've ever seen in our fellow immortals. They reminded me of some of my best worshippers, centuries agone…" He sighed in fond remembrance of his Viking warriors in ages past, before returning his thoughts to present times. "Aye, they earned their ship, and more." Such as the powerful fertility spell he had casually bestowed on the elders when he'd given them their ship. When their breeding season came, they'd find themselves able to outdo any three of the younger males, and guaranteed to breed good strong sons and fine daughters! He chuckled a bit at the thought before whistling for Sleipnir.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00


	4. Side Trips

**Escape from Avalon, Part 4: Side Trips**

_Author's Note: This chapter has been expanded to include an additional trip. As before, be forewarned that the first scene in this chapter is written from the point-of-view of a very, very unpleasant man; a fictional character based on a real person that I was unfortunate enough to be acquainted with at one time in my life. It contains Extremely Inappropriate language._

Palm Beach, Florida, is a popular place for retirees to move to. Old bones are not fond of cold weather, and Palm Beach is always warm even in winter. Quentin Marsden had moved to Palm Beach just last week from his hometown of Scranton, Pennsylvania, after developers had bought his old place for nearly twice what it was worth, stating it was an ideal location for a neighborhood delicatessen.

Initially he'd refused to sell the house, let alone move out of town; as a church pastor, he'd had a responsibility to his flock. They needed his firm hand to guide them, and keep them from straying off the path of righteousness! But then someone had reopened the investigation into the death of his niece Penny, on some anonymous tip that it hadn't been suicide at all, but murder—and he'd been the chief suspect.

Which was an outrageous and inflammatory accusation, and he'd said so loud and clear to everyone who'd listen. The police had concluded fifteen years ago that the harlot had hung herself in the kitchen by her own hand! Of course he'd been the first one to find the body; it was his house! His house, which he'd generously let that whore stay in even when it had become obvious to the entire town she was pregnant with someone's bastard child. Why would he have wanted to kill her, when her death meant he'd had to take on sole responsibility for the boy? And all the money that had cost him…

Quentin had had his fill of parenthood already, while trying to raise the willful and disobedient child that his brother had fathered. And the girl had repaid all his efforts by running off to his black-sheep sister's home as soon as she'd turned 18, going off to college and turning into a promiscuous harlot, just as he'd expected (that's what came of giving women more education than they needed to become good dutiful wives.) While Penny had been alive, she'd known to keep that bastard child, a thing of mischief and evil from the moment of its conception, out of his sight as much as possible. Once she was dead and he'd had to deal with Phillip directly, he'd shipped the boy off to the first boarding school that would accept him, nearly a hundred miles away, and bid good riddance to him.

Paying for the boarding school had been a huge personal expense, but he'd had no other recourse. It had become obvious years earlier that no amount of whipping could beat the sin out of that boy, but since the soft-hearted secular authorities had made illegal the biblical solution of stoning to death the unredeemable child, the best he'd been able to do was hand him over to others to deal with. And after the ladies of his congregation had stopped coming around to offer their sympathies and help out with the traditional woman's work, he'd had to hire a housekeeper to come in once a week; more money that Penny had cost him by selfishly taking her own life!

The police investigation had ultimately been dropped, as he'd known it would, but by that time the church authorities had heard of it. He was sure it was the investigation that had caused the church to decide so suddenly to oust him from the pulpit—_his_ pulpit, and the flock he'd faithfully led for forty years! He'd been ousted in favor of some young buck fresh out of seminary school, a snot-nosed punk who'd refused to listen to his sound advice about how to properly lead a flock and guard against the Devil's influence.

He was still sure that those developers had been the ones to give the police that anonymous tip in the first place. But he hadn't been able to prove it, and just a few days after he'd lost his flock, when the police had come around again—this time to ask if he'd ever heard of a young man named Pietro Ursovich Korsokov, a Russian emigrant and college student who had last been seen departing on a trip to the Marsden home—he'd given in and accepted the developer's offer for his house, and the brochure on small affordable condos that were currently available in Palm Beach.

Not that the police would ever be able to prove any wrongdoing on his part regarding 'Pietro', either, because he'd done no wrong! He'd been an instrument of the Lord, driving out one of Satan's minions! But he knew that if he'd tried to tell them what had happened to 'Pietro', no one would believe him, and they'd think he was crazy-perhaps criminally insane, and start digging up his precious herb gardens and removing his other protections, while looking for a corpse that didn't exist.

So he'd packed up his things and a few of the household protections he'd made over the years, and moved to Florida. He blamed the fact that he'd moved out just two days before Christmas, the busiest time of the year, for the reason that almost no one from his congregation had stopped by to say farewell. Only one loyal parishioner, Bill Towers, showed up, but he'd made up for the lack by donating the services of his moving company, bringing in an entire team of men with boxes and equipment to get Quentin packed up and moved out of his house in only one day. Though Bill could have phrased the reason for his generosity better, when Quentin had asked; he'd replied, "So we'll all have a merry Christmas."

So now he was in Florida, and just moved into one of the condos that the developer had suggested; half the space was taken up with boxes still waiting to be unpacked, but the movers had at least gotten the furniture and the TV set up for him.

He looked out the window while getting a drink from the refrigerator, and scowled at the couple strolling down the street, both of them colored. There were far too many foreigners around these parts for his liking; far as he was concerned, all the spics and niggers and commies should be shipped back where they came from, and the country left to the hardworking Pilgrims' descendants, just as God had intended for them. But at least the climate was as warm as advertised. It was nice to be able to walk outside in late December without needing his overcoat…

Just as Quentin sat down to watch TV again, he heard a knock on the door to his apartment. The super wouldn't let him install an iron cowbell outside the door, so instead he rang the iron bell sitting on the end table before calling out "Who is it?"

"My name is Nadie," he heard someone say. "Mr. Marsden, may I talk to you for a moment?"

He grumbled but got up from the couch and opened the door to find a Hispanic-looking man dressed formally in a dark suit standing outside his door. "Mr. Marsden?"

"The Reverend Marsden," he corrected the spic sternly. "And what do you want? The super's not supposed to let salesmen up here."

"I'm not a salesman," the spic said calmly, before removing his hat. "Mr. Marsden, it is my sad duty to inform you that the authorities in New York have finally determined that your great-nephew, Phillip Kyle Marsden, is indeed dead. The court ordered a death certificate issued for him ten days ago."

Quentin snorted. "He's been gone for over two years, sonny; you think a death certificate really matters now?"

"I believe the certificate mattered a great deal to his widow and child," Mr. Nadie said mildly. "In addition to allowing wills to be executed and insurance policies to be paid, such things often aid in giving the grieving families closure."

"Okay, so the case is closed," Quentin said with a wave of his hand. As far as he was concerned, the case had been closed two years ago, when the police in New York had first contacted him regarding the missing-persons case the boy's wife had opened on him. He hadn't seen the boy for over three years before then, since that time he'd brought his bride-to-be out to the house; Quentin had tried to warn that fool misguided girl about what she was getting into, but she'd refused to listen (beguiled by the boy's lies, no doubt, just as Eve had been beguiled by the Serpent. That was why no woman could be trusted with anything of importance; they were too gullible.) After disappearing from New York, the boy hadn't come back to Scranton to bedevil Quentin; he'd told the New York police that, and they hadn't bothered him since. "You got anything else to say? My favorite show's going to be on soon."

"Yes sir, I do have a bit more to say to you. But first," as Nadie put his hat back on, then reached into his pocket, and pulled out what looked like a perfume atomizer… and sprayed Quentin right in the face with it. Quentin jerked back, but a fine mist covered his face and chin, and he tasted something watery in his mouth.

"You've just inhaled a slow-acting poison," the spic said calmly. "Your death will be as painful and miserable as you made Penny and little Phil's lives. And by the way, Pietro sends his regards."

"_**Poison? Pietro?**_ You're a tool of Satan!" Quentin gasped, as Nadie just pocketed the sprayer and walked away. "_**Help! Police!**_ I've been poisoned!" he shouted desperately, but by the time the other residents on his floor opened their doors to see what was the matter, the spic had reached the stairs and closed the door behind him.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Inside the stairwell, 'Nadie' smiled to himself as he yanked off his tie and started unbuttoning his jacket, while reflecting that not only was this the easiest money he'd ever made, but a lot more enjoyable than he'd thought it would be.

He'd only taken the money when the person who'd hired him had sworn up and down that no one had any intention of actually harming the old man. Though after receiving that first look of sheer contempt from Mr. Marsden, a look he knew well after dealing with bigotry and racism for too much of his life, he'd thought for a moment about doing just a little harm after all. But the atomizer held nothing but water, which he'd filled himself from the tap two hours ago.

It had been a vicious but ultimately harmless prank, and one for which he'd been paid a full thousand dollars plus expenses (the funeral suit and the cheap atomizer.) This 'Pietro' person must hold a real grudge against the old man… and from what little he'd just seen, there was probably good reason for it. Any man who cared so little about his own flesh and blood, who couldn't spare a moment of mourning because he wanted to watch some damn TV show…

Well, the old bastard probably wasn't watching his show now. He was probably on the phone to the cops right that second, but they wouldn't be here for at least a few minutes. And they'd be on the lookout for a man all dressed up for a funeral, but the hat, tie and jacket he was wearing would be disposed of in the condo complex's trash bin before they arrived. (He decided to keep the white shirt, black pants and shoes, though; he had the idea that his girlfriend would like it if he dressed up a little for the New Years' Eve party they were going to in a few hours.) And once the cops learned that he'd been poisoned by someone named Nadie, they'd probably have to restrain themselves from laughing right in his face; anybody who knew even a little Spanish knew that _nadie_ meant "nobody".

And nobody had poisoned the geezer, either, though he would probably call the doctors right after the cops and have all sorts of tests run on himself, sure that he'd been poisoned after all. 'Nadie' smiled as he disposed of the hat, jacket and tie, wished the old codger a lot of doctors' bills (including one from a proctologist with ice-cold hands), and went whistling on his way.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Scranton, Pennsylvania, had once had a booming coal mining industry and a thriving textile industry, and been one of the largest and most prosperous cities in the region. But after World War II, when coal gave way to oil and natural gas as more popular energy sources, the town fell into decline, worsened when many of the textile industry jobs moved overseas. But starting in 1986, civic leaders began making determined efforts to revitalize the city. Aged and empty properties were redesigned and marketed as tourist attractions, such as the Steamtown National Historic Site and the Radisson Lackawanna Station Hotel, while other attractions such as the Houdini Museum were coaxed into taking root in the city. Ten years later at the end of 1996, the city's economy is still far from 'booming', but it's doing better than it was a few decades ago.

The same could not be said of all the city's residents, however. Geoff and Marsha Wilson huddled under blankets in their living room as they watched the TV, having turned the heat down as low as they dared without risking freezing the pipes. Both of them in their fifties, the couple would have rejoiced at the prospect of an extended trip to sunny Florida, but they simply couldn't afford it, now or any time in the foreseeable future. Between Geoff's bad back and Marsha's diabetes, their medical bills just kept climbing.

Their son Dennis fretted over them long-distance, and swore that as soon as he finished his final year of residency in Philadelphia and started really making money as a veterinarian, he'd pay back all the money they'd given him over the years; that would be a huge help financially. But Geoff always shook his head in response and told Dennis to worry more about paying off all his other college loans; the bank creditors would be a lot less patient than his parents. "Just seven more years, son, and we'll have our mortgage paid off; then we'll have plenty of money for other things. Just seven more years; that's nothing to a Wilson!" That's what Geoff had said with determined cheer during their family phone conversation on Christmas morning. But just now, huddled under the blankets and trying hard not to shiver, seven years seemed like an awfully long ways away.

But though the day was freezing cold outside, at least it wasn't particularly _noisy_ today, unlike every other day for the past week. Starting the very day after Christmas, the old Marsden place two doors down had been the source of an awful racket, as contractors came in and tore that house completely down. The Fife family, in the house between the Wilsons' home and the Marsden house, had been given an all-expenses-paid week's stay in the fancy new Radisson Lackawanna Station Hotel, far from all the unholy racket, in return for letting the demolition crews take down the fence and drive across their lawn. As for that cantankerous old Quentin Marsden himself, now living the high life in Florida, rumor had it that he'd been paid almost _double_ what his old home was worth! The Wilsons tried not to envy their neighbors too much, but it wasn't easy.

But close to the end of the program they were watching, they heard a knock on the door. Geoff shut the TV off—it was just another stale holiday special, anyway—and went to answer the door. He didn't recognize the young man at the door, but asked, "Yes, can I help you?"

"Good afternoon; Mr. Geoff Wilson?" the young man asked. Geoff nodded, so the man continued, "My name is Nikomu, and I'm here on behalf of Philip Marsden; do you remember him?"

"Phillie? Oh, come in, come out of the cold!" Geoff said, ushering him inside. "Marsha? The man's here about Phil Marsden!"

Marsha instantly started bustling about, asking Mr. Nikomu if he'd like tea or coffee, while Geoff discreetly kicked the thermostat up a few degrees for their guest. Mr. Nikomu at first demurred, then said that a cup of coffee would be nice, and soon they were all seated about the kitchen table with coffee.

Marsha managed to restrain herself until after their guest's first sip of coffee, but then couldn't wait any longer. "You said you were here about Phillip Marsden; has he been found? We haven't heard from him in almost three years now; his great-uncle down the street said he just disappeared two summers ago, during those bizarre 'Lost Nights' up in New York…"

He tried not to show it, but Geoff was just as anxious to hear the news as Marsha was. Little Phillie had been three years younger than their Dennis; no blood relation to them at all, but he'd come over often enough that they'd thought of him as part of the family. On warm or sunny days the boys had played together in the back yard, and on snowy or rainy days they'd played board games at the kitchen table while Marsha fed them hot cocoa and cookies. After poor Penny Marsden had finally broken under Quentin's abuse and hung herself, Geoff and Marsha had quietly considered trying to adopt Phillip away from that horrible great-uncle of his. But before they could start taking legal actions, Quentin had sent Phillie off to a boarding school, and it had been years before they'd seen the boy again; not until he'd visited Scranton again, a few months before his wedding. But Phillie had kept in touch with them over the years, sending them postcards, then an invitation to his wedding, and finally pictures of his little girl and their first Christmas as a family. It hadn't been until after another Christmas had passed without a card or photos, when Geoff had finally braced himself for the unpleasant task and marched down the street to ask him directly, that Quentin had bothered to tell anyone about Phil's sudden disappearance.

Mr. Nikomu looked rueful for a moment before he said formally, "I regret to inform you that the authorities in New York have finally determined that Phillip Kyle Marsden is indeed dead. The court ordered a death certificate issued for him ten days ago."

Marsha made a small wounded sound; Geoff just slowly shook his head in resignation. "A damn shame; he was such a good boy, and had turned into a good young man…"

Nikomu nodded, while Marsha asked worriedly, "What about his wife and daughter? Are they doing okay?"

"I was told they're doing well; that Anne Marsden is working as a nanny for a wealthy family, earning excellent pay, and that Bethany Marsden's future education is already assured. I was also told to give you these," Nikomu said as he pulled a thick manila envelope out from inside his jacket, and set it on the table.

The thick envelope contained three more envelopes, two of them thin and letter-sized and the third one of medium thickness and stuffed full of papers. Geoff squinted at the third envelope's papers and the legalese on them and finally asked, "What am I looking at, here?"

"You're looking at the mortgage papers on your house; specifically, at the bank's documents showing that it's all paid off as of this morning," Mr. Nikomu told him with some bemusement. "You now own it, free and clear except for annual property taxes… and this statement is for a bank account that seems to have been set up just for the purpose of paying property taxes."

After simultaneous and incoherent outbursts, for long seconds afterwards, both Wilsons could do nothing but gape at him. Mr. Nikomu just held up his hands and said, "Don't look at me for answers! I drove all the way over here from Pittsburgh hoping you could tell _me_ what and who's behind all this. This is the weirdest courier job I've ever had, bar none. The bank manager I picked up the mortgage and account papers from wouldn't or couldn't tell me anything, either; anonymity was one of the conditions of the payment. Even crazier, these other two envelopes, the ones I came into town with?" as he indicated them. "My directions said I wasn't even supposed to give them to you unless you asked about Phil Marsden's family!"

When he could finally speak again, Geoff asked "So what's in those envelopes?" as he poked curiously at them.

Mr. Nikomu opened them in turn as he explained, "This one is from American Airlines; it's a voucher good for two round-trip tickets to anywhere. Seriously, anywhere that American Airlines flies to! I've delivered a voucher like that once before, but that one was restricted to flights in the continental U.S.; these could take you clear around the world. And I've never seen this one before: a voucher from Marriott International, Inc. Good for a two-week stay in any Marriott Hotel, anywhere."

Mr. Nikomu gestured to indicate all the papers as he finished, "I don't know if he's feeling guilty or grateful, but your anonymous benefactor is definitely rich. You get all this, and a single message: 'Pietro wishes he could have done more'."

Sometime later, the Wilsons waved to Mr. Nikomu as he left and shut the door behind him, then turned to each other. Marsha asked simply "Pietro?"

"I've no idea, darling; no idea at all," Geoff said ruefully. "But… Remember how we talked once, before Dennis was born, about taking a trip to Hawaii?"


	5. Back in the Big Apple

**Escape from Avalon, Part 5: Back in the Big Apple**

When the mists of passage enveloped the ship, Tom couldn't resist thrusting an armored fist in the air as he crowed, "Ha-HAH! We did it; we tricked the King of Tricksters! _We're free_!"

Several of the gargoyles shouted with him, but the rest stared at him, wondering what the trick was, until Angela's voice echoed up from the hold below. "If we're free now, then somebody come down here and get us out of these chains!"

"Angela! She's sane again!" "Is her season over already?" "What about Gabriel?"

"We'll be right down, lass!" Hudson bellowed joyfully through the deck planks, before grinning to the wondering younger generation. "They were never mad, lads and lasses, nor is she in her season; that was the trick we played on Oberon, to get him to let you all go free! Sorry we had to trick the lot of ye, as well, but we didna dare take the chance that one of ye might slip up in a Fey's presence. Quick now, two of ye go down and free them!" and he chuckled as two of them dashed off towards the hatch to belowdecks.

Deborah spoke up hesitantly, "B-but… when our season does come… Will we…?"

Hudson smiled and shook his head, and again spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. "Nay, lass, ye'll not be sinking into such madness when the Breeding Moon arises! Females will be wanting more fresh meat when breeding, 'tis true enough, and males are apt to slash at anyone foolish enough to come between them and their mates during the breeding flights, but nae more than that; dinna worry about eating anybody ye care about!"

Hudson knew he was downplaying considerably what truly happened when the season was upon them, but just now this appallingly ignorant generation needed reassurances, before they spooked and fluttered away like frightened swallows. So he grinned at the princess as he said, "If that old cook from the castle's kitchens were here tonight, I'd be having to thank him fer giving me the idea, with those wild tales he was spouting during that last breeding season."

Princess Katherine grinned at Goliath as she said teasingly, "Then 'tis Goliath here we must thank above all, for 'twas he and his mate who started the rumors with that puir wee dog!"

Goliath looked nettled and somewhat embarrassed at the reminder. "We never even thought about eating it, and I didn't even mean to kill it!" he protested. "All I did was give it a tail-slap so it would go away and leave us in peace, but it just sailed right over the battlements. The cursed little pest just wouldn't stop barking at us!" Hudson, Tom and Katherine just began chuckling at his discomfiture, and the rest of the gargoyles slowly saw the humor in it all and joined in.

Coyote barked with laughter right along with the gargoyles and humans, as the ship sailed on through the mists. Suddenly the mists in front of the dragon-headed prow thinned and parted, and they saw a shore in the distance that sparkled with thousands of lights, shining so bright that several buildings were clearly silhouetted against the skyline. "Manhattan," Goliath said with satisfaction.

"Guided you right to the harbor, just as I promised!" Coyote winked at them. "But I've got places to go and people to see before your ship touches shore, so see ya 'round one of these centuries!" as a whirlwind formed around him.

"But we must return to the Green!" Jade frantically protested. A high-pitched yapping came even more frantically, as Gabriel pushed his way through the crowds, trying to reach Coyote; his voice had not been restored when the ship had left Avalon's shores. But the whirlwind vanished with a distant howl, and Coyote was nowhere to be seen.

Gabriel stared at the blank deck where Coyote had stood, then howled to the stars above before sinking to his knees in despair. "Och, puir lad; I swear to ye, we'll find a way to break Oberon's curse and restore yuir voice!" Katherine vowed, sinking to her knees beside him and hugging him consolingly, not caring that he was still sticky with blood.

"Aye, we'll find a way, lad," Hudson said with a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Right now, since we seem becalmed in the water, perhaps ye'd like to take a brief swim and clean up ere we decide what do next." Angela heartily seconded that motion, as she dove right over the railing into the water.

Gabriel nodded curtly, and dove over the side of the ship to splash into the water not far from where Angela was waiting. They spread their wings to float on the ocean's surface and washed the blood off themselves as best they could, Angela finally turning to Gabriel and asking him if he'd help her wash out the blood still caking and tangling her thick sable mane of hair. He did so, with brisk efficiency… unlike the tenderness he'd always displayed when helping her with her hair after swimming together in Avalon's lakes, as they'd done so often before. She suppressed the twinge of worry at noticing the change, telling herself that he was still upset, very understandably so, about losing a chance to have his voice restored. Once he tapped her shoulder to indicate he was done, she turned to help him with his own amber mane, but he'd already started swimming back to the ship.

Up on deck, Goliath, Hudson, Tom and Katherine debated what was to be done next. Manhattan was within gliding distance, and it would be a simple enough matter for the gargoyles to climb the main mast one by one, launch off from the lookout and glide to the castle, leaving the ship behind. But Coyote had implied before leaving them that he was free to do as he pleased, his promise to return to Oberon contingent on the ship actually reaching the shore. "Well, that's all the more reason to abandon it, then!" Tom said firmly. "Perhaps even to sink it, so it never reaches shore! Coyote was one of our defenders 'gainst the other tricksters on Avalon; 'tis only fitting we repay him with his own freedom from that den of vipers!"

Katherine agreed with him, as did Hudson, but Goliath shook his head. "If Coyote is not back on Avalon soon, Oberon will no doubt go looking for him, as he did when Puck tried to avoid the Gathering. And he'll start looking here, in Manhattan, where everyone knew we were bound. And I have no desire to have Oberon's attention turned to us again, and possibly finding out our deception. His wrath was great enough when we defied him the first time, without the other Fey knowing of our involvement. To lose face in front of his entire court… He'd likely destroy the entire island of Manhattan in his thirst for vengeance! No, we'll need to bring the ship in to shore, and soon." He cast an experienced eye at the winter night sky, and estimated, "We have roughly nine hours before dawn; we can delay bringing the ship in for perhaps another seven." He chuckled as he said, "That will give Coyote over half the night to make merry with; for a Trickster like him, that should be plenty of time to leave his mark on the world once more!"

Angela and Gabriel had just climbed up the side of the ship as Goliath finished, and she protested as she accepted her tunic back from Katherine, who had kept the clothing for the "breeding pair" during their charade, "But Father, Manhattan is right there waiting for us! Do we really have to stay here on the ship and do nothing for seven hours?"

"I didn't say that," Goliath said mildly. "We can glide to the castle now, but we must return for the ship later. Before we leave, though, we'll need to get some practice in rowing this ship, so we can get it to shore before dawn."

"Aye, practice would be good," Tom agreed, before turning to the other gargoyles. "Wings up, all ye eggs who've helped me row the old skiff out for fishing! We've a bigger boat to handle now, so set to and grab an oar!"

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

New Year's Eve is always a nightmare for policemen assigned to patrol beats; drunken celebrations frequently turn into cases of assault and battery, rape, arson and manslaughter—and don't even get them started on all the property damage and people sent to the hospital just from accidents, the kind that that occur whenever alcohol flows so freely. Every cop available is out there keeping the streets as safe as they can, with the police dispatchers calling out new directions and situations needing their attention every few minutes. Carter and Davis, the rookies on the newly created Gargoyles Task Force, had been pulled back to beat duty for the night to help cover all the trouble spots. Which meant that Bluestone and Maza, the respective head and lead detective for the GTF, were out on the street doing their rookies' jobs and following up on tips about the gargoyles…

Which meant, at the moment, they were debating whether to get drinks from the drive-thru at Burger Meister or McD's to go with the 'doggie bags' that Broadway had packed for them. The nearest McD's was closer by four blocks, but Matt voted for Burger Meister because he liked the eggnog shakes they put on the menu just for the holidays. Elisa agreed that eggnog shakes would go well with the slices of cake they'd have for dessert, so she started driving in that direction.

Before their shift had started at the precinct, all four members of the GTF had gone to the castle to be present at sunset for the gargoyles' awakening… and for Elisa Maza's birthday party. Elisa usually preferred little to no fuss or celebration for her birthday, but when the clan found out that her birthday was on New Year's Eve they insisted on throwing her a party to celebrate it. As Broadway had privately confided in Matt a few days before, "We know she misses Goliath a lot, maybe even more than we do. While we can't get Goliath back from Avalon any faster, at least we can give her a big reminder that even without Goliath here, she's still an important member of our clan."

Diane and Peter Maza had come to the castle with presents for their daughter, and Talon had flown up from the Labyrinth with his wife Maggie, whose pregnancy had advanced enough for her to need a backless maternity dress. Broadway and Martha had brought out the giant cake they'd made and frosted the night before, and set it next to the platters of chateaubriand and fancy side dishes that the castle's 'day shift' human chefs had prepared as per Xanatos' orders. Everyone sang 'Happy Birthday' to Elisa and made her wear a silly party hat while she blew out the candles, and a good time was had by all. The party hadn't lasted long, just an hour or so because the gargoyles and the cops all had peacekeeping duties to attend to; at the end of the party Broadway and Martha had quickly put together four sack lunches containing roast-beef sandwiches made from leftover chateaubriand, with slices of cake for dessert.

"Here, get two orders of fries to go with the shakes," Matt said, passing her a few bucks as they pulled up to the drive-thru window. "Might as well really indulge for your birthday, right?"

"Ooooh, let's go wild and get _large_ fries," Elisa said sarcastically before rolling down the window to order.

"Yeah, I know, after having chateaubriand with those red roasted potatoes in whatever that fantastic sauce was—my mother would maim somebody to get that recipe!—it seems almost criminal to go back to your standard grease-and-salt-sticks. But I always get fries with my shakes, ever since I was a kid," Matt said with a shrug.

Elisa just shrugged right back, "Hey, who am I to deny you your right to have a coronary?" But she ordered a serving of fries for herself too.

But when they picked up the order at the drive-thru window, Elisa was perplexed to receive not two but three eggnog shakes, and three orders of fries as well. "But I only ordered two of each!" she protested.

"Oh, the third order's for me," they suddenly heard from the back seat, as a caramel-skinned hand reached over the seat to snag one of the milkshakes off the cardboard tray. "Ask them for ketchup, will you?"

Both cops spun around with eyes wide, instinctively reaching for their weapons in their holsters. Matt completed his draw and pointed the muzzle right between the eyes of the black-haired and grinning young man sitting in the back seat, but Elisa stopped and left her gun drawn but pointed upwards instead of at the intruder, as she growled with eyes narrowed in irritation, "Coyote!"

"Yup," Coyote said, saluting them with his shake before bringing the straw to his mouth.

Matt noted the resemblance in skin tone and facial features between his partner and the intruder, and asked Elisa without taking his eyes off the back seat, "Relative of yours?"

Coyote was preoccupied with a long and noisy suck of his milkshake, so Elisa said succinctly as she re-holstered her gun, "No; Fey shape-changer. Met him in Arizona. Trickster; likes to mess with people but not generally malicious."

"That's me," Coyote said amiably as he paused in drinking his milkshake and boldly reached right past Matt for his fries. "Can we get some ketchup in here?"

Suddenly a sharp wind blew straight out of the fast-food restaurant, and three packets of ketchup sailed like miniature kites past the shocked window attendant and past Elisa to land right in Coyote's waiting hand. Coyote leaned back with his goodies and popped a handful of fries in his mouth as Elisa asked impatiently, "What are you here for, Coyote?"

Coyote deliberately chewed his food and kept them waiting until he swallowed, then answered offhandedly, "Just checking in on friends and family. Oh, and I figured you'd like to know that Goliath and the other gargoyles have arrived, but if you're not interested…"

The teasing glint in his eye said that he knew very well that Elisa was interested, and she didn't disappoint him; her whole face lit up like the star on a Christmas tree as she almost squealed, "He's back? Back from Avalon already?"

"Yup. Should be at the castle any minute now," as he swiftly reached over the seat again to snag some of Elisa's fries too.

If Elisa noticed or not, she clearly didn't care as she put the car in gear and headed straight for the castle. Matt forgot about eating, just wedged the cardboard tray with the shakes in place and hung onto his seat as his fellow officer of the law started taking corners and driving at speeds that would earn her fistfuls of tickets from any other cop they came across.

When Matt glanced back at the back seat again, he noticed that Coyote had disappeared sometime in the last few seconds. He said so to Elisa, and she responded with a cheery "_What_ever!", her mind clearly on their destination.

On the next sharp turn, the paper sack holding Elisa's dinner tipped over and the contents spilled out. Matt's eyebrows rose up as he asked, "How did Coyote take bites out of your sandwich without taking it out of the bag? Or even out of the plastic wrap?"

"Trickster," Elisa shrugged. "And who cares about a stupid sandwich? This is the best birthday present I've had in years!"

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

_Eleven o'clock, and all's well_, Brooklyn thought to himself as he glanced at the clock hanging over the mantle. All was actually rather boring at the moment, but boring was better than being shot at.

Normally he'd have warriors on patrol right now, but not tonight; he'd called everyone back to the castle at 10:00 p.m. There were far too many people out on the streets, far too many lights on, and too many illegal fireworks being set off even before midnight; the skies just weren't safe for gliding right now. Even the first patrol had complained of sudden bright flashes giving them temporary blindness before they'd headed back; Rebecca had almost flown right into a flagpole before her vision recovered. They'd go out again at 2:00 a.m., after most of the partying and accompanying bright flashes had stopped; for now, it was up to Elisa and her fellow cops to keep the citizens safe. But Brooklyn had assured them that if some emergency came up between the hours of 10 pm and 2 am, the clan would be only a radio call away; Lexington was wearing a headset turned on and tuned to Elisa's radio frequency, even as he and Rebecca played some video game together.

Robert was in a corner, working at his easel; painting another illustration for the first of the picture books that were being made of Heinrich's stories. Heinrich was in the opposite corner, frowning and absently chewing a pencil to shreds while staring at the page half-full of writing in front of him; working on the rough draft for still another adventure for his hatchling hero, Klein-Johannes (apparently the brave hatchling would be encountering a werewolf in this story; Fox tried not to take it personally.)

Fox and Xanatos were at the chess table, playing a game with both cutthroat moves and loving banter. Broadway and Martha were in the kitchen, making some fancy snacks for celebrating the New Year when the clock struck midnight. The TV was on, but every channel had either the same huge fuss leading up to the Times Square countdown going on and on and _on and __**on**_, or reruns of old shows that Brooklyn had already seen before. Boring, boring, boring… but it wouldn't do for him to complain about it, since he'd been the one to call everyone back home for the next few hours. Well, maybe he'd find a good book in the library and read for a while. Or maybe he'd—

"Penny for your thoughts?" a voice said teasingly right over his head, just as he set the TV remote aside and started to get up. He glanced up and smiled to see Isabel, his mate (_his mate!_ his heart sang; he wondered if he'd ever get used to it, and kinda hoped he never did,) looking down at him with a smile touching her furred muzzle as she tousled his mane.

"I was just thinking about how I'd like to do something fun with you," he said, reaching up to stroke her fingers with affection. "Want to play a board game, or go for a glide around the castle perimeter?"

"How about both?" she suggested. "First a little glide, then a board game." That sounded like a fine idea, so they went hand in hand up the stairs to the rooftop door.

But just as they stepped onto the battlements and prepared to launch, a sudden howling whirlwind sprung into existence on the castle rooftop. And just as suddenly died down, to leave a man looking sort-of like Elisa standing there! The stranger just tossed them a wink and a cheerful "Nice night for it, huh?" as he headed straight for the door to downstairs.

"What the-Hey, wait, who the heck are you and what are you doing here?" Brooklyn demanded as he leaped in front of the wind-guy—a Fey?—and spun around to confront him. And found himself continuing to spin, when Wind-Guy winked at him again with a wicked glint in his eye. By the time he'd turned completely around twice in half a second, he'd concluded that yep, it was one of those blasted Fey!

Isabel cried out "Brooklyn!" and leaped to his defense, but tripped and fell flat on her face as her talons were momentarily glued to the stones. After spinning like a top for a few seconds, Brooklyn finally fell over dizzily, scrabbling at the cobblestones to keep from falling flat on his face as well. He could hear some sort of wailing alarm going off inside the castle while the Fey said with an almost feral grin, "Be cool, dude; I'm just here to see an old buddy." The Fey sauntered over to the stairs, then stood off to one side and waited, as other feet were pounding their way up the steps.

Lex, Rebecca and Robert stampeded out of the stairwell at top speed, followed closely by Heinrich, Xanatos and Owen, the latter two brandishing weapons. The Fey bowed with a flourish and a sardonic grin as the herd thundered right past him; when Lexington realized it and tried to stop and turn to pounce on him, Rebecca slammed right into him and they both went over, just in time to trip up Robert, Heinrich and Xanatos. They all ended up in a squawking tangle of arms and legs and wings, as the stranger yipped with laughter at the sight.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

_Yeah, what fools these mortals be_! But Coyote's laugh cut off abruptly when Owen, the only one to not suffer any mishap, waved the barrel of a laser pistol under his nose. "Hey, chill out!" Coyote protested. "I just stopped in to shoot the breeze, not be shot at!"

"If you are here at Oberon's bidding, you will find that I am more than prepared to defend the babe by any means necessary," Owen said with icy calmness. "The child stays with his parents, no matter the cost to myself or _any_ of Oberon's Children." _Even formerly dear friends_, his eyes said with anguish if one looked deep enough into them.

"Glad to hear it," Coyote said simply. "Word's spread about how you avoided the roundup. Took a lot of stones, dude, to stand up to Oberon like that!"

For the first time ever in any castle resident's experience, Owen showed a trace of real humor; a wry smile flickered across his face for just a moment, as he held up his stone fist and forearm and said, "Indeed."

Coyote gave a brief bark of laughter at his own unintentional pun, then grinned and tossed off a mocking salute. "Hey, gotta run, lots to do before I go back. It's been good to see you again; put 'er there!" as he extended his hand for a handshake; his left hand.

Owen hesitated, then extended his own left hand, the fist frozen in stone. Coyote gripped it firmly and squeezed once, with green sparks erupting from his grip. Then he let go and summoned a whirlwind again, just as Broadway and Martha emerged from the castle (Broadway armed with a steak knife, and Martha with a rolling pin), demanding to know what had happened.

As Coyote faded from view with his trademark howl, Owen stared wonderingly down at his fist, which had become flesh and blood once more. He flexed it once, then again, as his face split in a wide delighted grin… Until he noticed them all staring at him, at which point his expression froze into icy calm once more.

"I take it you and Coyote are old buddies," Xanatos said wryly as he clambered to his feet. "No wonder you refused to advise me one way or the other, when we were trying to build that plant in Arizona."

"It would have been a conflict of interests, sir," Owen said as he stood with stiff correctness… though he couldn't stop twitching his newly transformed hand. "As there was no great danger to either you or him, I felt it better to simply let you sort it out directly."

"So that was Coyote, huh?" Brooklyn said as he got to his feet and went over to Isabel, who was sitting up and rubbing her sore muzzle. "Now I know why Goliath and Elisa said he was the nicest obnoxious punk they'd ever met. You okay, babe?"

"I'm fine, hon," as she accepted his hand and rose to her feet. "I've said it before and I'll say it again; you guys meet the most interesting people."

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Out in the bay, all the oarsmen spots had been filled and the gargoyles were trying to get them moving in unison. This was not as easy as they'd hoped it would be, and there was considerable muttering and subdued cursing on both sides as oars were tangled and pulled from grips. Goliath moved up and down one side of the boat while Tom covered the other, trying to get their rowing teams coordinated. Hudson wisely decided to just sit this one out, and was crouched on his haunches between Ursula and a large covered basket the gargoyles had brought with them from Avalon.

Suddenly, Hudson became aware that there were faint noises to be heard coming from the basket, and he stared at it just as a tiny hole was poked in one side of it, just inches away from his eye. "Eh?" Hudson stared curiously at the hole, and saw a beady eye staring out of that hole for just a second before disappearing. "Och, just grand, a stowaway," he muttered to Ursula, who was looking curiously in his direction.

Ursula smiled knowingly. "That basket's probably got some food in it; I noticed one of the youngsters running into the hut with an armful of peaches while the packing was going on. They probably didn't trust New York to have the same fruits and such that their island paradise had. And anywhere you have food stowed in considerably-less-than-airtight containers, you have vermin sneaking in."

"Aye, no doubt you're right. Well, I'll take care of this one, but we'll have to caution the youngsters to check the rest of their baggage before taking it all to the castle. Xanatos prides himself on having no vermin available for hunting," he said as he stood up, undid the strap holding the lid down, and flipped the lid off. And roared, "By the Dragon!" while instinctively throwing his hands up to protect his remaining eye and the rest of his face as the basket _erupted_, a furry and feathered tornado emerging rapidly from its depths.

Everyone looked in Hudson's direction, and several gargoyles dropped their oars and sprang towards the chaos emerging from the basket with shouts of "Tidbit!" "Sweetmeat, no!" "Bad hatchling!" and "Come to Papa, pretty!"

Goliath snarled as something landed on the back of his head and tangled in his mane, and reached back to grab the offending creature. Atalanta, a towering turquoise female with a black mane, a generous beak and even more generous bosom, beat him to it, shoving his hand away as she grabbed whatever it was and hugged it to her chest, and began cooing to it. "There, there, tidbit…"

"Tidbit?" Goliath looked incredulously at the pint-sized ball of beady-eyed fur in Atalanta's grip, and wondered if there was something wrong with this younger generation; he and his rookery brothers had never been in the habit of playing with their food. "Scarcely a morsel there; didn't you lot believe me when I said we'd have food enough for all of you at your new home?"

"Tidbit isn't food!" Atalanta said fiercely, hugging the ball of fur even closer. "She's my pet!"

"Your…what? What is it?" as he peered, trying to get a good look at it.

"A gliding squirrel," Uriel, a beaked and horned male with a grayish-brown hide and cream-colored mane, sighed as he came up and put an arm around his mate. "I named the first one Tidbit to mock her, but Atalanta's named the last three the same name just to rub my beak in it. Is she all right?"

"Just nervous… And probably angry at me, for stuffing her into that basket with all the other pets," Atalanta murmured as she stroked its fur. The squirrel, which had a ribbon around its tiny neck and odd loose flaps of skin beneath its forelegs that Goliath had never seen on a squirrel before, was indeed chittering excitedly at her as she soothed it.

"Other pets?" Goliath looked disbelieving around him, and saw that the chaos had resolved itself, with several gargoyles now holding and soothing small creatures, while a few more were still chasing their frightened charges about and calling in vain.

Bronx had begun barking excitedly and chasing the small creatures about as well, and had cornered another gliding squirrel when Boudicca barreled into him from the side, knocking him away just before he could close his jaws on it. He stared at her in utter astonishment as she kept him away from it, while another gargoyle swooped in and protectively snatched the squirrel away. Boudicca whuffed and muttered at him in reproving tones, probably explaining in what passed for watchbeast language that the animal was _not_ for eating.

"Aye, their pets," Princess Katherine said fondly as she came over to Atalanta. "I'd wondered if ye'd find a way to bring them along with ye. Were they all in that basket?"

"Along with several handfuls of grain and peaches to keep them quiet until we were free," Atalanta admitted as she ducked her head and blushed. "We just couldn't leave them behind, for the Fey to torment like they did us!"

"How many of these…pets… are there?" Goliath asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Let's see, who owns what… Four gliding squirrels, three wee owls, four bats and an opossum," as Katherine counted on her fingers. "Twelve in all."

"Er, plus eight more," Theseus, a coal-black gargoyle with a startlingly blond mane, said sheepishly as he held a smaller basket up and opened the lid, so they could see inside. "I kept Pouchling separate from the others because she's so touchy right now; her litter just came out of the pouch two nights ago." And indeed, the beribboned opossum inside the lined basket hissed warningly at them as she curled protectively around her eight tiny young, urging them back into her pouch.

"Plus two more than that," Atalanta corrected with an even more sheepish grin, as she pointed at another small basket that was yet untouched. "We brought along those two little birds that lived in the hut, too, the male with the crippled wing and his mate. After feeding them for the last few days and nights, it just didn't seem right to leave them behind either. I know they're day-dwelling birds, but maybe they'd be good pets for Elisa?" she asked hopefully.

"Pets." Goliath groaned and rubbed his brow ridges, wondering if it was possible for a gargoyle to get a migraine. He could almost hear Fox and Xanatos hitting the ceiling, at the thought of such wild animals running rampant through the castle and destroying all their precious antiques. "Princess, I do wish you hadn't instilled this particular human custom in them. Wasn't Boudicca enough of a 'pet' for you all?"

Hudson chuckled as he came over. "Aye, pets. We've traditionally had only the watchbeasts for companions, 'tis true, but surely, Goliath, ye remember from yuir hatchling days, yuir rookery sister and her pet fawn?"

Goliath sighed as he dredged up memories from far too long ago, of one of his gentlest rookery sisters and her devotion to anything small and defenseless. Somehow, he didn't remember how, she had gotten her hands on a motherless fawn, whose mother had either abandoned it or ended up in the castle's stewpot. His sister had lavished as much attention on that fawn as a rookery keeper with a hatchling; so much that when some other hatchlings tried to play a stalking and hunting game with the fawn; those rookery siblings had ended up running to the keepers with bites and gashes from the fawn's protector.

He also remembered how his sister had nearly gutted that human hunter for killing the fawn once it had grown to a yearling; the hunter claimed he hadn't seen the red ribbon about its neck until after he'd shot the arrow. His sister had been inconsolable for weeks, moping about the rookery and refusing to eat until she'd been nearly force-fed by their worried rookery keepers. The last thing he needed now was a dozen moping young gargoyles… He sighed again and said, "Well, I suppose some accommodation can be made for them." If not, he'd let Xanatos have the unenviable task of telling these young folk they'd have to part with their charges. "In the meantime," as he raised his voice, "Everyone get back to your oars. We still have to learn how to maneuver this ship!"

After a bit more trial and error, and more growling and cursing under their breaths, Goliath and Tom finally got the gargoyles manning the oars to move in the right rhythm to get the ship moving across the still and dark waters, and had brought it a few hundred yards closer to shore. "That's far enough for now," Goliath declared with satisfaction. "All of you at the oars remember your positions and your rhythm, for we'll be bringing this ship up to the docks later tonight. But for now, let's go to your true home, Castle Wyvern!"

A great cheer rose up, as gargoyles started climbing up the ship's main mast. "Hoy, lads, let yuir elder go first!" Hudson chuckled, as he trotted towards the mast. "Bronx and I'll be going ahead to warn the others, so they'll know to let the lot of ye through the castle's defenses. Besides," he added to Goliath, "I want to be standing there on the battlements with the others when ye bring them all in. 'Twill be the grandest sight ever, to see the skies above Wyvern filled with gargoyles once more!"

"We'll make it a show to remember," Goliath promised him with a smile, as Hudson climbed up the main mast with a nimbleness that belied his age.

He launched from the crow's nest, then circled back to pick up Bronx as Goliath held the watchbeast up high for him. Then he called out as he spiraled higher for the better air currents, "Give us ten minutes to gather the others ere ye follow!" Grinning fit to burst, he glided at his best sustainable speed straight for their ancestral home.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Back at the castle, Owen, the Xanatos family and the gargoyles were gathered in the main living quarters. The noise of the 'Fey Alert' siren had woken up the children in the nursery, and when the kids utterly refused to go back to sleep right away, Brooklyn suggested that Anne bring them out to join the adults for a little while. Everyone was wondering aloud just why Coyote had decided to pay them a visit and how he'd slipped out from under Oberon's thumb, and what it would mean if the rest of the Fey were free to roam the world once more. And if any Fey were left on Avalon, where the Wyvern Clan's descendants had made a clan of their own; did the Avalon Clan have the island all to themselves again?

"Please, slow down, explain again!" Heinrich finally interrupted, looking frustrated. "Too much of what you are talking about, I just do not understand! Only 'Coyote' I ever know of before now, is funny-looking wolf-dog in American cartoon that can never catch Roadrunner! Now you say the wolf-dog can turn into a man, and Avalon island is home to these shape-changers as well as gargoyles?"

"Ah, right; sorry, Heinrich," Brooklyn said with chagrin. "I forgot that you never had the crash course in 'Fey 101' that we gave everyone from New Orleans on the way up here." But while the Xanatos family and the original Manhattan gargoyles were still explaining Fey in general and Coyote in particular, they heard footsteps coming at a fast clip from the elevator, and seconds later Elisa and Matt strode rapidly in. "Hey, guys!" Brooklyn greeted them. "You'll never guess who just dropped in!"

"Oh, we know! Where is he?" as Elisa looked around for him eagerly, then headed at a trot for the stairs to the roof.

"Sorry, you just missed him; he disappeared again right after he fixed Owen's hand."

"Huh?" Elisa stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him with a confused expression. "He did what?"

"Turned Owen's hand to flesh and blood again," Xanatos chimed in. "In his inimitable style, of course."

Elisa just shook her head confusedly, but Matt said with a wry grin even as he stooped down to pick a happily squealing Bethany up off the floor, "I think Brooklyn's talking about Coyote."

"Yeah, that's who was just here," Brooklyn agreed. "Who were you talking about?"

"Goliath! Coyote popped in on us and said he'd be here!"

"He'll be coming soon enough, lass," a deep and familiar voice chuckled from the stairs to the roof, "and he'll be bringing plenty of company with him." Hudson grinned as he came down the stairs to join them, with Bronx swaggering in just after him and sporting as smug a grin as a watchbeast ever had.

"Hudson! Bronx!" Brooklyn jumped up and clasped forearms with Hudson, while the other ones scrambled to their feet to welcome him and Bronx back as well.

"And who's this, now?" Hudson said with surprise, upon seeing a dark gray male gargoyle with battle scars aplenty, who was eyeing him back with equal curiosity, and Bronx with even more curiosity.

"This is Heinrich, from the Berlin Clan," Brooklyn said as he ushered the strange male forward. "Heinrich, this is Hudson, and this is our watchbeast Bronx. Here, just hold still and put your hand out, and let Bronx sniff you so he'll know you're a friend. Heinrich's clan doesn't have any watchbeasts; he's never even seen one before," he said in an aside to Hudson as they watched the watchbeast and warrior cautiously greet each other. "So, how was Avalon?"

"Paradise no more, laddie," Hudson informed him with a scowl. "The Fey have overrun it, and Oberon withdrew his protection from the gargoyles there after we defied him in order to save the wee prince, there," as he indicated Alexander in Fox's arms. "They were under siege by those of the Third Race who delight in tormenting mortals, with damned few allies to protect them, and forced to ring an iron bell day and night for their own safety."

Everyone gasped in dismay and horror, and Brooklyn's face darkened with rage as his tail lashed. "Under siege? If those damned immortals want war, we'll give them war! Let's see how they stand up to a clan equipped with iron-"

"Nay, laddie, no need for war," Hudson forestalled him with a raised hand. "Not when the simplest thing was an evacuation. I told ye Goliath was coming along; he's bringing them all with him. Ye'll want to shut off yuir fancy technological defenses for a bit," he informed the startled Xanatos and Owen with a grin. "It wouldn't do to be shooting the newest members of the clan out of the sky as they're arriving!"

"Bringing them all with him?" Xanatos echoed somewhat dazedly, while Fox asked, "Just how many extra people are we talking about, here?"

Hudson considered. "There's the 'eggs' themselves, as Tom likes to call them, plus two more from Guatemala, and the lasses from New Orleans… Counting Goliath, Ursula and Angela too, ye currently have coming in thirty-nine gargoyles, a gargoyle watchbeast, and the youngsters' two human guardians. Oh, and also four gliding squirrels, four bats, three wee owls, two other birds, and an opossum that just had her litter of eight."

He grinned as everyone stared at him in dumfounded silence. "Well, we could hardly ask them to leave their pets behind for the Fey to torment, could we?" Then he looked sternly at the castle owner as he said, "Xanatos, I'm thinking ye'll agree with Goliath and me that since it was our defending young Alexander from Oberon that cost our clan's children their home and safety, ye owe them a safe place to roost as well."

Xanatos and Fox looked at each other and somewhat reluctantly agreed, while Owen went to a security panel built into the wall, and shut down the castle's perimeter defenses. "It will now be safe for them to approach. I'll have to take statistics from each new member immediately upon arrival, to add their profiles to the databases as soon as possible. In the meantime, I'll ensure guest rooms are made ready for the two humans."

"Have someone on Aerie Security's night shift go clear out the deli sections of the three closest open-all-night grocery stores, and bring all the food up here immediately," Xanatos said as he tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Fox, I have the definite feeling that life around here just got a little more interesting."

"Understatement of the month," Fox said as she cuddled Alexander protectively closer, and shook her head. "Squirrels and possums and bats …"

Rebecca and Robert chorused the only thing appropriate to follow that remark: "Oh, my!"

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Back on the Viking ship, Goliath decided ten minutes had passed, and organized the rest with what they would carry. He would carry Princess Katherine, as he had carried her to safety so many years ago; Tom insisted on flying with Gabriel, while Angela would carry Boudicca. The rest divided the clan's baskets and sacks of luggage evenly between them, and lined up around the main mast. Goliath went up the mast first, launched from the crow's nest, then swooped down to scoop Katherine up from where three of her children were holding her high off the deck, being as careful as possible for the sake of her old and brittle bones. Gabriel followed suit a few moments later with Tom, and Angela with Boudicca. They circled high above the ship in a holding pattern while the remaining gargoyles ensured their pets were secure in their pouches or clinging tightly to their clothing and hair, launched from the crow's nest and grabbed the luggage as it was tossed to them by the ones last in line.

Once everyone was in the air, Goliath organized them into a V formation, and set off for the castle. "You'll have plenty of time for exploring later; for now, keep a tight formation!" he ordered as he set the pace. He was careful to stay just below the level that Lexington said was covered by the 'radar' devices used by the airports; the very last thing they needed to do tonight was to panic the humans sitting at the monitors into thinking that they were being invaded, as the gargoyles were far too large to be mistaken for a flock of geese.

Soon enough, they reached the docks of Manhattan. A longshoreman sitting on a crate with a bottle saw them flying overhead, and stared at the gargoyles gliding in formation for a few seconds… then shook his head and slowly, deliberately poured the contents of the bottle onto the weathered wood at his feet.

The formation grew ragged for a short while, as they flew over the city; some of the gargoyles were straggling, practically itching to explore this strange new landscape beneath them, while the others were fearfully bunching together, staying close to Goliath and their guardians. But once they all had a clear sight of the castle atop the Aerie building, the formation cleaned up and straightened out as they increased their pace. Castles, even one at such an astonishing height, had meant home and safety for all their lives prior to the Gathering, and after the trials of the past few nights everyone was eager to have a good safe home again.

Katherine's eyes grew misty and her breath caught in her throat as she beheld it. "Castle Wyvern, just as I remember it from Scotland ere the Vikings came!" she whispered, sounding like a young girl once more. "Oh, Goliath, we're going home!"

"We are indeed, Princess," he agreed with a smile. But he had to caution her, "There have been a few changes inside the walls. David Xanatos is very fond of technology, and has incorporated much of it into the castle's defenses and accommodations. But I think you'll find you can still recognize our old home underneath it all."

As they grew closer, they could tell people were waiting for them on the battlements of the near side, and soon Goliath could make out individuals. "Elisa!" he whispered happily, once he spotted her familiar red jacket and raven tresses. Princess Katherine eyed him with a knowing smile, but said nothing as he glided even faster.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

On the battlements, Hudson stood next to Elisa as they watched the arriving gargoyles fly up in formation. He felt tears stinging at his good eye, and just let them come as they would, for everyone would know they were tears of joy. At long last, over a thousand years after the tragedy that had wiped out their clan, the skies over the castle were filled with gargoyles once more!


	6. Approaching Dawn

**Escape from Avalon, Part 6: Approaching Dawn**

Standing by his wife Fox on the battlements of the castle, David Xanatos had to admit it made for quite an impressive sight: over three dozen gargoyles, most of them Angela's rookery brothers and sisters from Avalon, gliding in for a landing on their new home. He said as much to Fox as she held their son Alex, and she agreed with a wry smile. She also agreed that yes, their life was about to become a lot more interesting… And for a woman who used to be regularly ranked among the Top Ten Lethal Ladies of the world by Soldier of Fortune Magazine, "interesting" usually meant "chaotic, disastrous, nightmarish, and more than any three normal people can handle." David knew that, but decided on a more positive outlook. He hunkered down next to Alex and pointed to the incoming flock with a wide smile. "See all the pretty gargoyles, son? Now you'll have lots more nighttime babysitters to choose from, all kinds of tails to chew on!" Alex babbled happily.

Every businessman has to be good with numbers, even one who moonlighted as a Fey Trickster, and Owen's brain was already throwing figures out at him. The current household of fifteen, counting the original Manhattan gargoyles, their recent New Orleans brides, Heinrich and the humans, was about to increase by over threefold, with a food budget increase of at least seven-fold since the average gargoyle ate twice as much as the average human. (And if more than a few of them packed the calories away like Broadway and Goliath did, he'd better make it eightfold.) Then he'd increase the utilities budget, both for water and electricity.

Owen didn't foresee the need to build any new rooms onto the castle, since over half of the rooms in existence were still unused, gargoyles seemed to like communal living when they were awake and they usually slept outside. But still, he and Mr. Xanatos should get together later and decide which other rooms would become communal quarters. Then they'd need to stock those rooms with televisions of their own, since no way in Avalon could they count on so many people all agreeing on the same show at once. And at least one more computer setup, with another phone line devoted to it exclusively, in case others developed Lexington and Rebecca's interest in exploring the Internet. That would be enough changes to start with, though he had no doubt there would be others occurring that he hadn't even thought of yet.

Then he told the business half of his mind to shut up for a moment, so he could think like a Fey again. His human body still had The Sight, though he usually chose not to use it unless he suspected others of his kind were about, but he'd never bothered to mentally 'turn it off' again after Coyote's visit (to restore his hand to flesh and blood again! It was hard to maintain Owen's usual emotionless façade when he still wanted to turn cartwheels for joy), and now it was telling him that some of the gargoyles coming in had been given 'parting gifts' by a few of his brethren. Some of them were benign, but others were most definitely not…

Anne stood between Owen and Matt with Bethany in her arms, looking up in awe while Bethany squealed in excitement, "Lotsa gargles! Lotsa, lotsa gargles!" Anne half-whispered that there sure were a lot of them, before gently reminding her daughter that they were called _gargoyles_, sweetie…

Heinrich just stood there and stared in silence, with tears of awe, wonder and stunned joy trickling unnoticed down his cheeks. For over fifty years, he and his brother and sister had thought they, and their only child Gregor, were the only ones of their kind left in the world. And now… Other clans. _Large_ clans! Skies full of their kin! He thanked God for letting him live long enough to see this with his own eyes.

Brooklyn, Isabel, Robert, Lexington and Rebecca stood together, looking up in something like awe as well. "I never thought I'd see something like this over the castle again!" Lexington said, sounding kind-of choked up.

"I know what you mean, brother," Brooklyn said solemnly. "Brings back old memories, doesn't it?"

"Wow, and here I thought I'd have to get used to a small clan!" Rebecca said with her beak split in a wide grin. "Now, we'll be almost as big as the New Orleans Clan!"

Martha, standing next to Broadway as they too gazed upwards, added, "And almost all of them are our age, which means they're be joining in next year's season! I can hear Ursula already, demanding a much larger room for the rookery."

His eyes locked on the approaching flock, Matt commented in a wry aside to Elisa, "Say hello to our increased workload, partner."

Elisa spared a glance in Matt's direction, noting with a smile how he'd gravitated to Anne's side and put an arm around her waist without apparently realizing it. Then she turned her gave back to the gargoyles, her smile growing even wider as her husband came ever closer…

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Being carried in Gabriel's arms, Guardian Tom couldn't help hugging his charge's neck in excitement, for just a few moments a lad of eight years old again. "Oh, me egg, isn't it a grand sight? Just as I remember it from before the Vikings came! Well, except for back then the castle sat firmly on the ground, not atop a tower of glass. Oh, and wait till you see all the strange things on the ground below; 'tis enough to make a body think of wizardry, even though Elisa swore to me when I came here the last time that 'twas all done by men and machines! They've wagons of metal and glass that move without horses, and thunder and stampede down the roads growling like dragons but blowing smoke from their _back_ ends! And lights brighter than a thousand candles, and boxes that talk to you and play music and some that show pictures and… Well, Odysseus will just go into a flat spin, he will, with so many new things to look at and take apart!"

Gabriel snorted and smiled wryly at his guardian's comments as he flew in formation behind Goliath, with Angela on his right carrying Boudicca. His sharp ears could also overhear snatches of the conversation between Goliath and their princess in his arms, discussing much the same thing. But they were roughly two hundred yards away from the castle now; time to start deciding where and how to land the entire clan at once. He tightened his grip on Tom for a moment to get his attention, then grunted and indicated with a thrust of his spurred chin the battlements they were heading for, then looked over his shoulders at his brothers and sisters, hoping Tom would get the hint. It was so bedamned frustrating, not being able to talk anymore, thanks to Oberon's curse!

"What're ye trying to… oh, right, where they're all to land. Full circle 'round, foremost to farthest, right?" When Gabriel nodded, Tom lifted his voice and bellowed, "We'll land in a circle, eggs, ringing the battlements; foremost in the wings take the farther side!"

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Goliath looked back at Tom and Gabriel in surprise at Tom's bellow; he'd been about to suggest that very thing, but they'd beaten him to it by a fraction of a second. A chorus of ayes from the flock in response to Tom's orders reminded him forcefully that he wasn't yet the acknowledged leader of all these new members; a hero, yes, a near-legendary figure, but not their leader. Tom, Katherine and the deceased Magus had been not just their guardians but their leaders until Gabriel became old enough to take on the mantle; then they'd stepped down to become the elders and advisors, and Gabriel had been the one to give orders. Goliath would have to be careful to establish just who led the clan here, without stepping on anyone's tail in the process.

The flock flew over the castle and into their positions, then came in for landings on the battlements with a thunder of wings beating the air. Held tight in their mothers' arms, Alexander and Bethany shrieked in delight at the excitement. Goliath had purposely risen out of formation at the last moment, hovering high in the air as the others had zipped by underneath on either side. Now he backwinged to a landing on the center of the roof, not far from where Xanatos and the others were standing, and gently set Princess Katherine on her feet again. "Princess Katherine, may I present to you the Xanatos family, current owners of the castle," he said formally.

David Xanatos stepped forward with a grand bow. "Delighted to meet you at last, your highness. I am David Xanatos, and this is my wife Fox and my son Alexander." Fox chose to bow instead of attempting to curtsey with a baby in her arms, while Alexander burbled at the newcomers in greeting.

"Oh, the pleasure is mine, I assure ye! 'Tis a joy to see how ye've restored my old home to its former glory, and more!" Katherine gestured to Tom as Gabriel set him down, and he came over willingly to stand next to her and bow to them. "And this is… my husband, Tom, fellow guardian of our clan." (A slight blush came to her cheeks at the white lie; with no priest to marry them, she and he had been 'living in sin' for more than two decades. But she could hardly admit that to these strangers!)

"A pleasure to meet you as well," Xanatos said, but anything more he would have said was drowned out by twin volleys of excited barks as Boudicca, having just been set down by Angela, and Bronx charged at each other again. The two danced around each other like oversized (_really _oversized) puppies, barking up a storm, as Boudicca was no doubt telling Bronx how glad she was to be here and away from Avalon's tricksters, and Bronx no doubt telling her about all the wonderful things in store for her here. Everyone grinned to see them so happy, though they'd completely wiped out any hint of formality to the introductions still going on.

"Goliath, this is Heinrich," Brooklyn said as he ushered the newcomer forward, while Bronx and Boudicca were still making a joyous racket. "Our newest clan member; I know you should have been the one to formally accept him, but the whole clan agreed he should become one of us after he saved the children's lives! He's originally from the Dresden-Berlin Clan; he came to New York looking for us just like Adam and Rebecca did. Heinrich, this is our leader Goliath." Goliath was a little nonplussed by the stiff formal bow Heinrich gave to him instead of a warrior's handclasp, but let it pass, knowing different clans might have different customs.

Goliath did try to regain a measure of formality and control once Bronx and Boudicca had calmed down, when he introduced the established members of the clan to the newcomers. "This is Brooklyn, my second-in-command," he said loudly enough for all to hear, "and his mate Isabel. And these are Lexington and Rebecca, our technology experts. Listen well to everything they and the Xanatos family tell you about this new world you've come to live in! And this is Robert; co-mate with Lexington and Rebecca—yes, they are a trio—mated pair Broadway and Martha, and Heinrich, who has recently arrived from," he hesitated for a bare moment; had Brooklyn said Dresden, Berlin or both? "Germany," he finished, hoping no one had noticed the hesitation. "And our human clan members," as he introduced Xanatos, Fox, Matt, Anne and the children in turn.

He finished with a wide grin as he reached out to her, "And you have already met our truest and bravest human clan member; my mate, Elisa." Grinning up at him, Elisa let herself be swept into his embrace. The wind carried whispers from the crowd of 'did he say _mate_?', 'told you they were mates', '…to a human?' and similar comments to his sharp ears, but he ignored them all. He wrapped his beloved in his arms, wings and tail, murmuring for her ears alone, "If I'm correct about the date, judging by the celebrations we passed on the way here: Happy Birthday, my love."

"Best birthday present _ever_, Big Guy," she murmured happily as she hugged him hard for a few moments, before reluctantly backing out of his embrace. "But you've still got a lot of introducing left to do…"

She was right; all the newcomers still needed to be introduced to the established clan. But there was a problem with that; Goliath embarrassedly admitted to himself that he didn't have all their names straight yet. Gabriel, their former leader, would have been the next logical choice for making introductions, but with his voice cursed by Oberon, that was also not an option. Should he ask their princess or guardian to introduce them, or ask Angela to do it (thereby tacitly admitting he didn't have their names straight yet), or just sweep formality off the battlements again and have everyone introduce themselves? He ruefully thought for a moment that things really had been easier when they'd had no names at all, just titles for the more important members.

The decision was taken out of his hands when Katherine began shivering violently. "Oh, your highness, allow me!" Xanatos said as he hurriedly shed his overcoat, then gave it into Tom's outstretched hand.

"I thank ye," Katherine said gratefully as Tom draped the overcoat about her shoulders, a concerned look on his face. "It's been many years since I've felt winter's kiss, and these old bones are unprepared for it."

"Aye, and my armor and gambeson give me some protection, but not yuir gown, lovely though it is," Tom agreed as he hugged her close. "Lord and Lady Xanatos, if ye will pardon us, we'll retire inside and leave the introductions to others. Angela, ye know both clans, so introduce yuir kin for us!" he said over his shoulder at her, as Owen gestured for them to follow him inside. Goliath, standing silently by, couldn't decide whether to be relieved or annoyed at Tom's briefly taking control again.

"Well… Gather 'round, everyone; in hatching order, all right?" Angela said as she beckoned them in, and there was some shuffling around and muttering as the newcomer gargoyles got themselves sorted out, to stand in a semicircle about the others.

While the Avalon clan members were organizing themselves into the semicircle, Goliath decided to introduce the four gargoyles who had originally come from elsewhere. He beckoned two of the four forward to meet the Manhattan clan members as he said, "These two are Jade and Turquesa, from the Guatemala clan."

"We are pleased to meet you. We are also exhausted," Jade said wearily with a bow to the others, "after four days and nights of little to no sleep. With your kind permission, we would seek out a quiet corner to collapse in."

Xanatos blinked about the 'days and nights' comment, but said, "Of course; just go through that door and ask Owen to show you to a guest bedroom! And don't worry about leaving gravel on the bed sheets, either; we can handle it."

Jade and Turquesa thanked him, and were about to head off when Turquesa put a hand on his chest and said firmly, while grasping the pendant that hung around her neck, "We need _total_ rest."

"Agreed," Jade said with a weary nod as he took his pendant off, while she took off hers. "Goliath, we entrust these to you until we need them again." With a rather startled look, Goliath accepted the pendants and stowed them in his belt pouch, as the Guatemalan gargoyles trudged away. Then his eyes met Elisa's, knowing she knew what those pendants were for, and they shared a look of growing anticipation…

Then Marie cleared her throat, in a sweet but rather peremptory fashion. Goliath forcibly reminded himself that dawn was still hours away, and there was much to do in the meantime. For the sake of the few people present who hadn't met them yet, he said, "These are Yvette and Marie, of the New Orleans Clan."

Matt, Anne, Bethany and the Xanatos family all gave the two gargoyle ladies warm greetings, but they only had eyes for the gargoyle from Germany. Marie's look was calculating as she took in Heinrich's scarred appearance and his formal bow to them both, but Yvette gave him a wide smile and extended her hand to him… and when he took her hand and kissed the back of it while bowing again, she gave a tinkling laugh and said, "Un véritable gentleman! It is a pleasure to meet you, monsieur!" Heinrich didn't even try to hold back a wide grin as he stood up straight again, his eyes on the ladies.

By that time the Avalon clan members had gotten themselves organized, but there were two noticeable gaps in the semicircle when they were almost finished, spaces not filled in. The gargoyles next to those spaces looked uneasily at each other before sighing and sidling closer together, filling the gaps left by two of their kin; the vanished Michael and Menalippe, Goliath realized sadly.

Angela started making introductions of her rookery kin, beginning with the one standing next to her. "This is Gabriel; he led our clan in Avalon. He really should be the one introducing us, but Oberon cursed his voice and now he can't speak. Lexington, would you please get a pen and paper from downstairs for him?"

"Oh, here; I always carry a notepad with me," Isabel said hurriedly as she fished in her shorts pockets for a few moments. "It's great for sketching out project ideas before they sneak away from me. Here you go," as she pulled out a palm-sized pad of paper and a ballpoint pen, and handed them to Gabriel.

Gabriel accepted the pen and paper, then looked questioningly at her as he made a dipping motion with the pen. Isabel was mystified, but Angela understood and said hurriedly, "You don't need an inkwell with these pens; the ink's already inside it! Here, you just push this little button on this end… and the ink comes out of that end when you write. Go ahead, try it." Gabriel did, and his brow ridges went up at the sight of the ink 'magically' appearing.

Close to the other end of the semicircle, a gargoyle with lavender skin and horns that spiraled backwards from a honey-colored mane perked up and leaned in, trying to get a closer look at the pen in Gabriel's hand. Lexington noticed and grinned, recognizing a kindred spirit. But then Angela began introducing the others, gesturing to the one standing on her other side. "This is Raphael; he and I hatched at almost the same time. And I warn you now, he's a real jester!"

A tall, skinny gargoyle with a long chin, peaked brow ridges, a mop of bright red mane, bat-style wings and skin pale as milk, he had bowed low when Angela said his name, then straightened up and gave her an outraged look while laying a dramatic hand on his chest. "I, jest? Surely 'tis you who are jesting, rookery sister! I am as solemn as a priest!" And with that, accompanied by several amused snorts from his siblings, he darted his hand inside his tunic and pulled out a tiny fruit bat, which dangled upside-down from his finger and chittered at the surprised residents. "See? His name's Priest."

Angela shook her head with an amused smile; last time she'd looked, the bat had been named Yeechee. But she knew if she pointed that out, Raphael would just claim that Yeechee meant 'Priest' in bat-talk; Raphael would say or do nearly anything to get a laugh.

Angela then went to the next one waiting to be introduced. She paused for a sad moment, knowing that he shouldn't have been the next one in line; her rookery brother Michael had been the fourth one to hatch. But he was gone now, disappeared to suffer some unknown fate at the hands of the Fey, so instead she said quietly, "And this is Uriel." A beaked male who resembled Brooklyn in size and general shape, but with 'two-fingered' wings, small prongs branching off his horns, grayish-brown skin and a cream-colored mane instead of silver-white, Uriel bowed with a smile and words of greeting.

"This is Samson," as she nodded to a royal-blue male with bat-style wings and a tousled brown mane that had a pair of curling ram's horns poking through over his temples. Samson had been staring fixedly at each of the humans and resident gargoyles in turn, with furrowed brow ridges and a slight squint to his eyes, but at Angela's introduction he donned a polite smile on his face and bowed deeply to them all.

Next she introduced Deborah, a tall gray-skinned and bat-winged female with a riotous white mane that had a bony ridge poking up through it, running down the center of her forehead to end in a petite horn poking straight up from the tip of her nose. Deborah gave them all a sweet smile and a curtsey as graceful as any highborn lady of old.

Next Angela introduced Ruth, a slender and ethereal-looking female with both skin and mane as pale as the moon shining down on them. Her smile to everyone was dreamy and a little distracted, as if she was preoccupied or listening to music that they couldn't hear. By contrast, her rookery sister next in line, Naomi, had a rather stocky build, burnt-orange skin, a short-cropped and tousled black mane and a jawline rimmed with a spiny frill, all framing a merry grin; her grin deepened as she looked at Heinrich and clearly gave him a once-over-lightly.

Gray-skinned and glider-winged Nimrod was next to be introduced; his head sported a row of three curved horns running like a crest back across his bare scalp, with the only hair on his head being two side-locks that hung like tassels from in front of his ears. Nimrod kept one hand on the spear at his side as he bowed to everyone.

Instead of a spear, the next gargoyle to be introduced carried a sword and shield. Having skin the color of iron rust, an entirely bare scalp and a nose almost as long and pointed as Brooklyn's beak, Gideon saluted the others with his sword before sheathing it.

Zipporah, next in line, looked very much like a petite feminine version of Brooklyn as she gave them a curtsey. Next came Jephthah, whose wide mouth and squat stature made him somewhat resemble a frog with a white mane and gargoyle wings. Then Esther, a slender female with powder-blue skin, a mane of flowing locks so pale blonde they were almost white, and web-wings like Lexington.

Then Angela introduced a male gargoyle almost dwarfish in stature, nearly as broad as he was tall with an armored hump over his pumpkin-orange shoulders, as David. All the castle residents glanced between him and David Xanatos, as the human quipped, "I don't think you'll have any trouble telling us apart."

It became clear that when the clan's human guardians had run out of names of strong and heroic women from the Bible, they'd turned to other classical sources. Artemis was next to be introduced; she was slender in build and glider-winged, her skin was pale aquamarine and she had two slim horns poking up out of her blonde mane, which she kept bound up in a high ponytail off the crown of her head. Then came Athena, a female who had Angela's willowy figure, glider wings and even the same shade of sable brown mane, but whose skin was soft blue instead of lavender. Two sturdy horns poked up out of her curling mane to curve back over her head, and her ridged cheekbones gave her face a rather severe expression that was only softened by her smile. After them came Orion; he had two-fingered wings, a spade-tipped tail, sapphire-blue skin, and a flowing white mane through which could be glimpsed four spiny ridges running in parallel back across his scalp.

Hippolyta had golden skin, and her bald scalp gleamed in the moonlight; she carried a sword and shield just like Gideon's, and her tail sported a spiked club at the end that could probably do as much damage as her sword in combat. Antiope had bright pink skin and a curling blonde mane, through which a pair of somehow delicate-looking ram's horns spiraled outwards. Her almost coquettish demeanor was in direct contrast to Hippolyta's rather aggressive stance, suggesting that she believed in 'make love, not war'.

Next to be introduced, Theseus had a short curling mane in the same shade of blonde as Antiope, but his skin was coal-black in contrast. Standing next to him, Hercules had gray skin and a far stockier build than Theseus, as well as short curling horns like a Simmental bull and no hair at all on his head. Curiously, in addition to his short sword and shield he was the only gargoyle wearing any armor; a semi-breastplate that covered only half of his chest, as if he had no concerns other than being stabbed in the heart.

The next gargoyle's appearance suggested aquatic origins, with his scalp ridges that resembled fish spines and a face having almost no nose to speak of; even the belt he wore had a shell-shaped buckle. Angela introduced him as Jason, and Elisa thought to herself with wry amusement that no, she wouldn't be confusing him with her human friend of the same name.

Next to be introduced, Perseus had lime-green skin and a flowing mane of light brown hair, with two sharp horns poking up from his forehead. His wings and overall build were much like Gabriel's, but his tail had no spikes or other extra features. Achilles resembled Hercules in that he also had short horns curling out from an otherwise bald head, but his skin was deep green and he was built on a more massive scale, with muscles to rival Goliath's.

Next came Ajax, a brown-maned male whose features were so close to the human standard that he could have passed for one, if not for his basic gargoyle build and his olive-green skin. Beside him stood Pericles, a web-winged male with skin of dark blue who stood nearly as tall as Achilles, but was almost stick-thin in comparison to his rookery brother, his head topped with a bright red unruly mop of mane.

Atalanta was a towering turquoise female with a black mane, a generous beak and even more generous bosom, and a ridge of spikes running down her back to the tip of her powerful-looking tail. Standing next to her, Penthesilea looked small and almost scrawny in contrast, though that yellow-green beaked female was actually as tall as Hudson and the muscles on her arms spoke of many years of using the bow strung across her back. Next in line, Ophelia bore her own longbow in similar fashion, as she bowed when she was introduced to the castle residents.

The bat-winged male gargoyle with lavender skin and horns that spiraled backwards from a honey-colored mane, who had shown such interest in Gabriel's new device earlier, was introduced as Odysseus. Looking at the lad as Angela said his name, Goliath was unaware that he was smiling sadly in reminiscence. Standing next to Odysseus, Boudicca barked proudly when her name was called out.

Aethelfleda was another hairless female, who had no horns but whose ears were long and pointed sharply upwards, like those of a fennec or desert fox. The way her face curved out into a vaguely canine muzzle as well, suggested that at one time a member of the English clan had traveled up to Scotland and found a mate there in the centuries before Wyvern fell to the Vikings.

Next-to-last to be introduced, Angus had golden skin, glider wings and a black mane of curls through which a pair of stubby horns pointed through. And the last one in the semicircle, Morag, was a dainty female with two-fingered wings, dusky blue skin and a bony shield in front of her black mane much like Ophelia's, though smaller and without the trio of horns atop it.

Introductions for everyone present atop the castle had taken nearly half an hour. Now that they were finished, they all became aware that the overall noise level in the city had risen sharply in the last few minutes. Matt checked his watch and called out, "Two minutes to midnight and the New Year!"

Xanatos glanced at his own watch and nodded agreement, then said in an aside to Goliath and Elisa, "Just to avoid the sort of misunderstanding that I heard you went through in New Orleans…" He pitched his voice to carry across the castle as he called out, "Newcomers, here's your first modern human tradition to learn! All of you who have mates or are promised to each other, pair up now and kiss each other right when the clocks strike midnight, to ensure you'll have happy lives together in the coming year!"

The semicircle broke up in a hurry, with gargoyles scrambling here and there across the cobblestones to meet up with each other. Just as the city's noise level started really spiking in the rhythm that suggested a countdown in progress, the scrambling stopped as the mates all found each other:

Goliath stood with Elisa wrapped in his triple embrace, not too far from where Xanatos stood with Fox and his son. Brooklyn was holding hands with Isabel and Broadway was gazing happily into Martha's eyes, while Lexington, Robert and Rebecca were locked in a joyous three-way embrace of arms, wings and tails. Hudson and Ursula were hand-in-hand and smiling fondly at each other, while even Bronx and Boudicca had figured out the basics of what was going on and were happily nuzzling each other.

Among the Avalon clan members, Nimrod and Ophelia were embracing, as were Gideon and Hippolyta. Jephthah and Deborah were holding hands and looking into each other's eyes, even though Jephthah had to look quite a ways up to do so. David and Penthesilea had paired off, as had Jason and Aethelfleda. Raphael had dropped down to one knee, the better to look Esther in the eyes as they held hands. Achilles had simply scooped up petite Morag in his massive arms, and she cooed and giggled in his embrace. Atalanta had picked up Uriel, though only long enough to set him on a low wall so the average-sized gargoyle would be at eye level with his towering mate.

Odysseus and Zipporah were holding hands, as were Pericles and Athena, and Hercules and Artemis were embracing with both arms and wings. And amidst all those pairs, another trio: like a choreographed move from a cabaret, Antiope had sprung into the air and landed in the arms of both Angus and Orion together! Now the three of them were locked in an embrace just as Lexington, Rebecca and Robert were; the two trios gave nods of happy acknowledgment to each other from across the castle roof.

During all the scrambling, Angela had turned towards Gabriel, but the gray-green male had turned away from them all and walked to the edge of the battlements to stare out over the city. Biting her lip, she slowly walked after him, while all the other single gargoyles gathered in the center of the roof. Yvette, Marie, Ruth, Naomi, Ajax, Samson, Theseus, Perseus and Heinrich all looked at each other with nearly identical nervous smiles, as the roars of the city all around and below them gradually resolved into discernable words: '_Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four!_'

Off to one side of the gathering, Matt was looking at Anne with Bethany in her arms, saying with an embarrassed smile, "You know, it's not just spouses and fiancés that can kiss each other when the ball drops; it's okay for boyfriends and girlfriends to do it too."

Bethany crowed eagerly, "Kiss, Daddy!"

Anne started to say automatically, "Bethany, he's not-" And then she had to stop because the count reached zero, and at that moment Matt swooped in to hug her and her daughter together and kiss her firmly on the lips. Then, grinning, Matt kissed Bethany on the forehead, murmuring words to her daughter that she couldn't make out over the sudden roar of noise from everywhere in the city—or was the roaring just in Anne's ears? She actually felt a little dizzy…

Mated pairs and trios kissed and embraced each other all over the castle rooftop. While off to one side, Angela reached Gabriel's side as he stared out at the city, took his hand and squeezed it firmly… and after a long moment, he squeezed back.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

After leaving the castle, as invisible as a breeze, Coyote thought to himself that it had been good to see Elisa again. She was one of his favorite living descendants, even if she had barely any latent talent for Fey magic; the least magical of all the Maza family, which were outshone as a whole by some of their distant cousins. What Elisa lacked in latent ability, she made up for in bravery and sheer force of will.

He decided to check in on the rest of the Maza family, while figuring out a way to stay in the mortal world without breaking his promise to Oberon or incurring his liege lord's wrath. First came Peter Maza, Elisa's father; he felt through the aether for that faint connection to his human kin, then followed it to a house in the northern suburbs of Manhattan.

When he found Peter and his wife Diane, he discovered that the two of them were engrossed in their own private New Years' celebration; also that they were both surprisingly limber for their age. He smirked but decided against turning visible and interrupting them; instead he just left a sign that he'd been there, and went on to find Peter's boy Derek.

(The next morning, while getting up to fix coffee, Peter found and wondered over the scorecard in the kitchen with an '8.5' emblazoned on it, and a silhouette of a coyote head in the corner.)

But Coyote had a much harder time than he'd thought he would in finding Derek. It had been nearly two decades since the first time he'd noticed and acknowledged the boy as his kin, during a Maza family visit to Arizona and Peter's childhood home, but two decades was nothing to a Fey and he was sure he still remembered the boy's psychic signature right. Had Derek died? Mortals did have appallingly short lifespans… No, he was sure the boy wasn't dead yet. But something wasn't right; he couldn't track his descendant down the same way he'd found Elisa and Peter. Even when he switched to his anthropomorphic coyote form, he couldn't track the Maza boy's magic-laced scent.

Finally he used Zeus's old trick for checking on human progeny; he tapped Diane's spirit and used her faint aetheric connection, the psychic bond every mother had to her child, and followed that back to downtown Manhattan and… deep underground? Now even more intrigued, Coyote loped along and across ley lines in his old furred form as he followed the connection to its source.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Far below the city streets, Derek and Maggie Maza were both delighted and terrified. They held hands while Maggie lay on an examination table modified to accommodate wings, Derek standing by her side as they both stared at the woman on the other side of the table, Dr. Lucinda Lacey.

It was the general opinion of every biped—human, gargoyle, mutate, and even Fey that came in contact with Dr. Lacey, that her name was downright misleading. 'Lacey' implied something delicate, pretty and/or refined, but she matched that description in neither physique nor personality; Brooklyn had already muttered once that her last name should be 'Chainsaw' instead. But despite her rude and abrasive personality, Dr. Lacey was a brilliant veterinarian and uncannily skilled surgeon; it was primarily due to her efforts that Broadway was able to fly at all, after a would-be assassin's attack had nearly destroyed his wing in stone sleep. After her abrupt introduction to the clan, Xanatos had hired her to be the doctor for both the gargoyles and the mutates.

Over the past several weeks, the Labyrinth where the mutates lived had seen the staffing and stocking of a clinic that would treat mutates and gargoyles as well as humans. That morning a top-of-the-line ultrasound machine had been added to their inventory, and it was already seeing use as Dr. Lacey evaluated Maggie's pregnancy. Not exactly how most people would spend New Years' Eve, but Dr. Lacey had already said bluntly that she didn't celebrate the holiday, and Maggie and Derek didn't want to wait even a few hours longer than they had to, to get answers to some of the many questions they had.

Earlier Talon and Claw had taken turns lying on the examining table, as Dr. Lacey took readings of their internal organs to establish a baseline for mutate physiology. Now Maggie's already swollen belly was bared to the night air, and her soft fur smeared with the translucent gel used to conduct the ultrasound waves. She lay still as she and Derek both stared at Dr. Lacey while the veterinarian wielded the ultrasound wand, waiting to find out how their unborn child was progressing.

They'd been waiting for what felt like at least five minutes already, but Dr. Lacey ignored their stares, being focused with a frown on the ultrasound monitor screen that had been turned away from Maggie and Derek's view. Finally, unable to stand the suspense anymore, Maggie pleaded, "Please, Dr. Lacey, say something!"

"Shut up," Dr. Lacey responded without even glancing in their direction, as she moved the wand a little to the right.

That killed all attempts at conversation for another minute or two, but then it was Derek's turn to try. "C'mon, Doc, tell us what's going on! Never mind whether it's a boy or a girl, just tell us whether it has… if it looks _healthy_!" Derek had vowed in his heart that he would love their child with or without wings, no matter how inhuman he or she looked, but that didn't prevent him from being filled with almost as much dread as hope at what they'd find tonight.

"Not 'it'; 'them'," Dr. Lacey muttered almost absently. "Litter of two."

"Two? _Twins_?" Maggie gasped as she started to get up on her elbows, craning to see the ultrasound monitor.

"Lie down or get strapped down!" Dr. Lacey barked, still not looking at them as she put a hand on Maggie's shoulder to firmly push her back to a fully supine position.

That got Derek's fur to bristling as his ear laid back with anger. He growled, "The hell you're going to strap her down! We're not _animals,_ Doc!" Though the thought crossed his mind that if they _were_ animals, Dr. Lacey might actually treat them more kindly; word from the castle was that she got along amazingly well with Bronx the watchbeast.

"Then hold her still, and shut up!" the vet growled back, still focused on the monitor screen as she moved the wand another inch to the right.

Maggie lay still, looking up at Derek's face as she mouthed silently, _Twins_. Derek mutely nodded back, wondering if his face held the same amounts of both joy and dismay as hers. This was an utterly unplanned pregnancy, neither of them really feeling ready for kids, and now they were going to start their family with two right off the bat!

But Dr. Lacey just kept frowning at the monitor while moving the wand back and forth, and finally muttered apparently to herself, "Another fucked-up set of innards. Neither one is viable."

The words hit Derek like a wrecking ball to the stomach. He'd just started wrapping his mind around the idea that they'd be having twins, even started wondering if they'd end up with both a boy and a girl, but now… not viable? Unable to survive outside the womb; dear Lord, would their children be _stillborn_? No, please God, not that, not—

All in all, it was a really bad time for a wolf-like creature the size of a man to appear in the clinic not six feet away from them; just on the other side of the ultrasound machine.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

It was the first time Coyote had been genuinely surprised in at least eighty years. Cat, bat, and electric eel essences mixed in with human? Who'd done that to his descendant, and how in Mab's name had they done it without leaving any magical signature that he could find?

Coyote was so busy magically examining Derek's new body that he forgot to keep up the simple spell of invisibility. He realized his mistake when the other mixed-essences mortal in the room, a female, screamed in shock while staring right at him. And instead of screaming, all of Derek's new fur stood on end as he shoved a first forward and—_yowch_! That had hurt!

His own fur standing on end from the huge electric charge he'd just been hit with, Coyote did the prudent thing and vanished from mortal sight again. But he lingered in the clinic, carefully staying downwind of Derek and—his mate? Must be, the way he was hovering protectively over her, while the only straight-up human in the room yelled at him. And what that human was saying…

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

"_Sweet Jesus, served medium-rare_!" Dr. Lacey swore as she looked at the still-smoking ultrasound machine, before directing her glare at Derek. "What the fuck did you do that for?"

"Didn't you see it?" Derek sputtered as he pointed to her left. "That—that werewolf was standing almost right next to you!"

Dr. Lacey looked to her left, where there was now a conspicuous lack of wolfish creatures, then back at Derek with an eyebrow raised. "Uh-huh. A werewolf. Riiight."

"It was there!" he insisted. "You saw it, right, Maggie?" as he turned to his wife for a moment. She nodded as he turned back to the vet, continuing, "But it vanished when I hit it with electricity—and I know I hit it!"

"What you hit was one damned expensive piece of equipment! That ultrasound was a better model than the ones I used to work with at the San Diego Zoo, and now it's trashed less than a day after we got it! Do you think Xanatos is going to send us a new one every week?" Then Dr. Lacey paused for a moment before commenting, "Not that he couldn't afford to… Well, at least we got one use out of it; enough to find out what's going on in there," as she pointed at Maggie's belly.

Just then, Claw skidded to a stop in the clinic's doorway, his eyes wide and ears back, and his shorts on inside-out. His hands flashed in sign language, _Heard scream and blast! What happened_?

Dr. Lacey glanced at Claw with his dancing fingers, then turned to Derek and asked bluntly, "What's he want?"

"He wants to know what happened just now," Derek said as Dana also appeared in the doorway, crowding past her husband, her expression more curious than alarmed; Dana was deaf, so she couldn't have heard Maggie's scream or Derek's electrical blast, and had probably come running just because Claw had. Dana's hair was mussed and she was wearing a bathrobe, and even from the doorway Derek caught a whiff of musky scent that told him exactly how they'd been celebrating New Year's Eve. Any other day he might have given them a little good-natured ribbing over it, but this was definitely _not_ the time!

He signed to both Claw and Dana, _Intruder appeared, then disappeared_! _Looked like werewolf_ _but not Fox X; different color fur, tan-gray. Eyes glowed green. Maybe another Fey,_ he added as the thought occurred to him. After the kidnapping and Fox Xanatos's brief stint as the Were-Fox ten days ago, both Claw and Talon had been given a crash-course education on the Fey in general and their relations with the Xanatos family in particular, and Claw had passed the knowledge on to Dana because he kept no secrets from his wife—and, he'd suggested rather mysteriously to Derek later, Dana had plenty of experience in keeping secrets.

After passing on what he'd seen, Derek turned back to Dr. Lacey, taking a measure of mean satisfaction in the frustrated look on her face. Dr. Lacey was completely illiterate in sign language, and after she'd refused to tell Derek and Maggie what she'd seen on the ultrasound monitor for so long…

The ultrasound. Derek's heart plummeted down to his heels again. "You said the babies are… they aren't viable? You're sure?"

Dr. Lacey looked grim as she slowly shook her head. "Besides the looks I got at your innards earlier, I've seen the internal organs of dozens of different species in the prenatal stage, including sharks. And those fetuses… the heart's too small and already clearly malformed, the lungs look more like gills gone wrong, and it'd take hours to explain to you laymen everything that's wrong with the digestive tract. When Dr. Sevarius mutated you people, he clearly didn't redesign your genes with thoughts as to how they'd be combined in the next generation; he was only aiming for the immediate results."

Maggie began weeping, reaching blindly for Derek, and he felt tears stinging at his own eyes and blurring his vision as he gathered her close and let her sob into his shirt. He was vaguely aware of Claw signing something to Dana before coming over to wrap his massive striped arms around them both, offering what comfort he could, while Dr. Lacey just stood there looking uncomfortable.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

So they'd been changed by human science, not Fey magic… and the scientist who'd done it had botched the job. That part didn't surprise Coyote at all; with their extremely limited understanding of the forces that composed the universe, it was basically part of human nature to screw things up the first dozen or more times they tried anything new.

Still invisible, he focused his attention on the progeny inside the female—Maggie, Derek had called her—to see for himself how bad the problem was. And the doctor was right, it was pretty bad; while Derek, Maggie and the striped guy seemed to have gotten the best parts of each species in their makeup now, those kids seemed to have gotten the worst. They were doomed…

Unless he did something about it. Unless he meddled in mortal affairs again, which is really what a Trickster loves best.

Oberon had long ago decreed a policy of No Interference in Mortal Lives. But as far as every Trickster and even some non-Trickster Fey were concerned, rules are made to be bent as far as they can before breaking. Oberon had made a few exceptions to that decree, the first being that a Fey could work magic on mortals in true self-defense, if his or her own existence was threatened for some reason. Coyote wondered sometimes if Oberon had any idea how many times and how many different ways he and his fellow Tricksters had risked themselves, just in order to have some fun.

Another exception was that Fey could legitimately interfere in the lives of their mortal progeny, if they had any, particularly if those progeny were capable of Fey magic themselves. This many generations after he'd sired three sons on the lovely woman Maie, the Fey blood in the Maza line was running pretty thin, but it was still there and so they still counted as potential exceptions to Oberon's Law.

Or at least, Derek Maza _used to_ count as a potential exception. After his mutation into what he was now, the boy had no Fey essence left in him at all, and those doomed progeny of his certainly didn't.

A mere technicality, Coyote decided. He'd acknowledged the boy as his descendant two decades ago, during the Maza family's visit to Arizona. Since the mortal in front of him still called himself Derek Maza and still had a family bond to Diane Maza, he should still count as one of Coyote's kin, and Coyote could do whatever he liked in the boy's best interest.

The problem was, he wasn't so sure that the _geas_ Oberon had cast on all the Children when he'd made that decree, would see the situation as justifiable the same way he did. If it didn't, the spells Coyote was about to cast would cost him dearly…

But what the heck, he hadn't created any new creatures since that time he and Anansi had gotten drunk together and decided to create some egg-laying mammals (they'd had real fun with the platypus.) And unless he got really lucky or really smart within the next few hours, he'd be heading back to Avalon soon and it would be a long time before he'd get another chance to make an impact in the mortal world again. This time half the work had been done for him, by science instead of magic; he wondered if that would make everything easier or harder… Well, there was only one way to find out!

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Maggie was lost in a world of grief and despair, when suddenly that horrible doctor's voice brought her back with another outburst of profanity, and the question "Where did _**he**_ come from?"

Almost despite herself, she turned from where she'd been sobbing into Derek's shoulder to look at the doctor—but the doctor was staring at the floor beside her. Maggie sat up on the examination table to get a better look, and saw a man—a stranger—lying facedown on the floor, apparently out cold.

Dr. Lacey continued, "He just—just appeared there and fell flat on his face! Goddammit, I signed up for _gargoyles_, not for _magic acts_!"

"If you can't handle weirdness, then you shouldn't have come to New York!" Derek snapped at the horrible doctor while letting go of Maggie to come around the table.

Dr. Lacey evidently got over her shock and remembered her Hippocratic Oath at the same time that Derek reached the stranger, because she crouched down and helped him gently turn over the man… who looked a lot like Elisa, and like Peter Maza had probably looked when he was younger. "Derek, do you know him? He looks like he might be a relative."

"Never seen him before… and I've sure as hell never seen a nosebleed _glow_ before!" Derek said, staring at the stranger's face.

Dr. Lacey started checking his vital signs while Claw hurried over with the stretcher, and Maggie got off the examination table so they could lay the stranger on it. But as Claw and Derek were shifting the stranger onto the stretcher, moving carefully in case he had spinal injuries, he moaned and started waking up.

"M'okay, I'm okay," he mumbled as he waved away their helping hands while sitting up. "Jus' got a slap on the wrist, that's all; a warning to not try that again." He voice gained in strength as he slowly rose to his feet, and he grinned as he finished, "But I made the fix deep and broad enough that I won't need to do it again! Real quality work, if I do say so myself."

"What quality work? What are you talking about? And who are you, anyway?" Derek asked him bluntly, while getting between him and Maggie, his tail lashing in agitation—

His TAIL! Maggie stared goggle-eyed at the black-furred appendage that hadn't been there a few moments ago; it looked just like the one he'd had when he'd first been mutated nearly two years ago, before-a sudden suspicion had her twisting to look at her own behind, and ohmigod her tail was back too, nearly sticking straight out with shock!

She had no idea what she said next, but it was probably something profane, because it got Derek turning his back on the stranger to look at her in astonishment. And when he noticed what she was staring at-well, what he had to say about the return of their tails should have turned the air a sulfurous blue.

The stranger was frowning at them, with almost a hurt expression as he said, "You don't like them? But they're so expressive; really, you looked almost incomplete without tails!"

Derek turned to the stranger and roared right in his face, "_**You**_ did this? Well, then, _**un**_do it! _Right __**now**_!"

The stranger just shrugged as he said, "Sorry, can't; if I tried, I'd just end up in a lot worse shape than I was a few minutes ago. Besides, Coyote never does the same trick twice! But trust me, your kids will be happier with tails than without. For starters, they'll fit in better with the gargoyle kids coming later, if they have the same number of appendages. And second... well, see for yourself," as the stranger—he called himself Coyote?-smirked while jerking his thumb back over his shoulder in Dana and Claw's direction, without even looking at them.

Maggie had noticed that on the other side of the room, Claw had been having a far quieter freakout about the return of his tail, alternately grabbing at it like he wanted to yank it right off, and letting go long enough to sign words to Dana far faster than Maggie could keep up with. Dana had been signing right back at him, mostly telling him to calm down, and had finally grabbed at her husband's hands to 'shut him up' for a few seconds just as Coyote gestured towards them. Then she let go of Claw's hands to grab hold of his tail instead, though it was a loose grip instead of a painfully tight one. She looked intently into Claw's eyes, seeming to send the message with her gaze that his having a tail or not didn't make a difference to her, she'd always love him. Still holding his gaze, she started gently stroking the section of tail she was holding...

And Claw just _melted_. His whole body went from whipcord-tense to relaxed, until Maggie almost expected him to end up in a big furry puddle at Dana's feet, with a big goofy-kitty smile floating in the middle of it. Dana was clearly surprised by his reaction at first, but then grinned and began stroking even more, until Claw's big rumbling purr echoed through the chamber.

"I'll be goddamned," Dr. Lacey said, startling Maggie for a moment; she'd almost forgotten the doctor was there. "But listen, Mister Magic, just sticking tails back on these people ain't gonna fix their problems. You keep talking about their kids, but-"

"Their kids will be fine," Coyote interrupted her, dismissively waving off her concerns. "Get a new and better version of that device and you'll see for yourself. But since I can't stick around for that," as he gestured again, and a whirlwind like a miniature tornado came into existence by his side. He reached into the whirlwind, and pulled two pink baby blankets and rattles out of its center like a stage magician pulling rabbits out of a hat. He tossed the bundle to Maggie, saying with a grin, "Here you go; you'll want to have the cradles ready by February."

Maggie stared at the baby supplies in her hands, and suddenly believed that Coyote was telling the truth, and she'd give birth to two little girls—little girls with wings and tails, but they'd be happy and healthy and hers—in less than two months. She found herself sniffing back tears of joy as she clutched the blankets while saying over and over again, "Thank you, thank you!"

"Happy to oblige, little missus," Coyote said, affecting a Western drawl for a moment, before turning back to the whirlwind. "Oh, almost forgot..." he reached in again, and pulled out a baby-blue blanket and another rattle, which he then handed to a very surprised Dana. "You'll want this for later!"

Everyone stared at that blanket with eyes wide as saucers, Dana with a bright red blush on her cheeks. Maggie asked for all of them, "You mean she's pregnant too?"

"As of a few minutes ago; just gave a little boost to what you two had been working on before charging in here," Coyote said cheerfully, while giving a stunned-looking Claw a wink and a nudge. "And no worries, I made sure that he and the next few that you two have together will breed true with theirs. Happy new year and new lives, folks!" he said as he stepped backwards, into the whirlwind he made, which rose up to surround him... and when it faded away with a sound like a distant howl, so had Coyote.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Three time zones away, in an apartment in Flagstaff, Arizona, Beth Maza was showering in preparation for the New Year's Eve party her friends were throwing. They'd promised some rockin' live music from a local band as well as the usual kegs, and Beth was looking forward to dancing the old year away.

Just as she stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel, a howling whirlwind sprung out of nowhere right in the middle of the tiled floor, whipping the shower curtain and towels into a flapping frenzy. The towel Beth had grabbed flipped up to cover her whole face for a moment, and when she yanked it away, she saw Coyote standing right in front of her!

Beth wasn't particularly proud of the 1950's-housewife shriek she let out just then, but when you were naked in front of almost-complete-strangers, some reactions were just unstoppable. "How'd you get—never mind that, just _get out of here_!" she snapped while holding the towel in front of herself as a flimsy shield of propriety.

"Sorry, can't do that right now," Coyote said with a definite smirk. "It's been a long and busy night for me, and I'm just about tapped out."

Beth took a closer look at him, and noticed that under the smirk, his mouth and eyes were tight with strain. And his skin was pale under the perpetual tan; overall, he reminded her of how Dad had looked when he'd been recovering from that bout of pneumonia back in 1988. But from everything Elisa had told her and everything she'd read since their encounter last year, Fey were powerful magical creatures; what could exhaust one of them like that?

"Well, at least turn around so I can get dried off and dressed!" Beth finally insisted, still holding the towel in front of her. Coyote's smirk widened into a rather wicked-looking grin, but he nodded acknowledgment, then and turned to deliberately face away from her… but a sudden burst of warm winds suddenly swirled around her from neck to toe, drying her off within seconds, and even snatching a smaller towel from the rack nearby to drape over her still-wet hair.

"I thought you'd just said you were tapped out?" she asked as she shrugged into her bathrobe, and wrapped the smaller towel into a turban over her hair.

Coyote snorted, still facing away from her. "I can _always _summon a wind, Beth; in a sense, I _am_ the wind."

"Oh. Thanks, I think." Beth wondered, did that mean that little whirlwind had copped a feel while drying her off?

…No, she was _**not**_ going to ask that aloud.

As soon as she tied the sash on her robe and said he could turn around, Coyote turned to face her. And he wasn't smiling anymore; instead, he looked almost grim as he said, "I need your help, Beth. Let's have a talk… about family."

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Back in Manhattan, the hours between midnight and five a.m. were busy indeed, with giving all the Avalonian gargoyles a quick-n-dirty briefing on modern devices and customs that they could expect to encounter in the next few days. There was so much more to be learned that couldn't be discussed in only one night, but Goliath and Brooklyn figured that so long as they covered the basic essentials, the rest could be sorted out at their leisure.

Light switches were pointed out on the walls, and turned off and on in demonstration. Broadway and Martha gave everyone a quick tour of the kitchen as they were marched through it, pointing out the refrigerators, ovens and ranges, and making everyone promise to (a) always shut the refrigerator door after taking something out and (b) leave the cooking to others until they had time for one-on-one lessons in modern cookery. Bathroom faucets were turned off and on, with mentions of how long the hot water could be expected to last. Toilets were flushed. And flushed again. And flushed again, and again, and finally Goliath split the newcomers into teams and had the original clan members take them to each bathroom in the castle, because everyone wanted to get a good look at that miniature whirlpool that formed in the low basin, and some of them wanted to see how the tank behind the toilet worked too.

Brooklyn and Goliath also hammered out some basic rules for everyone to follow, and Lexington typed them up on his computer and made printouts (with Odysseus and Zipporah staring over his shoulder in fascination the whole while) that were posted on every door. Two separate sets of rules were made:

**CASTLE RULES**:

If you make a mess, clean it up yourself.

Gravel will be swept from the battlements on Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights, right after sunset. Sweeping teams will rotate on a weekly basis; the schedule will be posted outside the kitchen.

"Quiet Hours" are from eleven p.m. to six a.m. During Quiet Hours, the televisions must be kept to less than half the normal volume, and there will be no roaring, loud music, quarreling or other loud activities either in the common areas or on the battlements. If you have to be noisy, take it to one of the soundproofed rooms or take it on the wing.

Keep your pets either in the arboretum, or on a close leash. If they make a mess in the castle, clean it up immediately!

**OUT-IN-TOWN RULES:**

Newcomers will be accompanied by long-term residents for their first two trips away from the castle; no exceptions allowed.

Carry a communicator with you at all times.

No solo patrols or pleasure trips without prior authorization from either the Leader or Second. Stay in groups of two or more.

Write on the chalkboard by the staircase who is in your party, where you're going, and roughly when you expect to return.

If you encounter Quarrymen or other extreme hostiles, evade if you can. If not, CALL FOR BACKUP before engaging in combat!

After the basic rules were established, the pets were taken down to the arboretum, and everyone had eaten well from the food that Xanatos had ordered brought up to the castle, Goliath led sixteen gargoyles back out to the harbor. It was time to row the Viking ship they'd arrived on in to shore, before either dawn or Oberon came to New York. Xanatos had recommended they moor it at the docks by the cluster of warehouses his company owned on the East side, and had ordered the lights there turned on in a specific pattern to guide them in. But when they reached the general area where they'd left the ship behind:

"I don't see it at all!" Nimrod exclaimed, peering all around at the dark and empty waters below them.

"Are you sure this is the area where we left it?" Jephthah asked Goliath cautiously.

"Quite sure," Goliath rumbled. "I noted the channel marker buoys we glided over on the way to the castle. It has been over six hours since then, but the tides should not have carried the ship out of our sight in so short a time."

"Perhaps the city harbor patrol found it abandoned, and towed it to their own docks. Or the Coast Guard could have done it, if it drifted too close to the shipping lanes," Robert suggested; he'd volunteered to come along and be one of the rowers, for the chance to see an authentic Viking ship with his own eyes.

"That makes sense," Goliath agreed with a nod. "I imagine the newspapers tomorrow will tell us which group has it now." He told everyone they would return to the castle, but as they were turning to go, the gargoyle Jason pointed down to the water; he'd spotted something floating there.

Jason spiraled down and made a low pass to snatch the item out of the water, then brought it up to where the others were circling. "That's the basket we'd kept the pets in," Uriel said positively. "We left it behind after they chewed a hole in it, and because Ursula said the castle would likely have baskets and carriers aplenty for us to use."

Robert and Goliath exchanged glances. "The police or Coast Guard wouldn't have just tossed the basket overboard," Robert said with a shake of his equine head. "They wouldn't dispose of any possible evidence that might tell them who'd left a strange ship in their waters."

"I wonder…" Goliath stared down at the waters below, as if hoping his eyes could pierce their murky depths. "When Elisa, Angela and I returned to New York at the end of our 'World Tour', the skiff we had been on abruptly sank before we could moor it to the dock. Is it possible that Avalon's magic did the same to the Viking ship, sinking it once we had no further use for it?"

Jephthah asked, "If that happened, if it didn't touch the shore… does that mean Coyote doesn't have to return to Avalon yet? Or does the bottom of the harbor count as a 'shore' if the ship touches it?"

"I have no idea," Goliath admitted. "Once we return to the castle, we can ask Owen to share with us Puck's knowledge about Fey promises."

But when they returned to the castle a while later, they were told that Owen was unavailable. He was currently occupied in a conference room with Gabriel, Angela and Guardian Tom, as they sought an end to the curse that Gabriel was still under.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

As soon as Angela had told them that Owen Burnett was really Puck the Fey trapped in a human form, Princess Katherine and Guardian Tom had nearly pounced on the man and demanded that he do what he could to restore Gabriel's voice. Owen had assured them that he would do whatever he could to help, immediately after Gabriel went through 'Basic Orientation' with the rest of his clan. As soon as Goliath declared the first lessons over and took sixteen gargoyles with him to row the ship ashore, Owen ushered Gabriel to a conference room near David Xanatos' office.

Katherine, overtired after such a long and busy night, had already gone to bed in the bedroom Xanatos had given her and Tom, but Tom was still awake and came with Gabriel, to lend moral support if nothing else. Gabriel smiled his gratitude to Tom when the middle-aged man sat down at the table behind him, though he spared no more than a glance at Angela when she tagged along and lingered in the doorway. He knew he was being horribly rude to his rookery sister, but after what she'd done to his heart… it still hurt to even look at her.

Owen carried a large pad of paper and pencils with him into the conference room, and passed them over to Gabriel as soon as he was seated. "Before I say anything about this curse you are under, I want to know everything you can tell me about how it was laid on you. Please write down everything you can recall about the circumstances, even the slightest detail."

Gabriel nodded curtly, and began writing it all down on the paper given to him. He gritted his teeth sometimes as he wrote, faster and more furiously. He remembered every detail, all right; all too well...

He remembered waking up with his usual roar that sunset, flexing his wings straight out and back and half-hoping to smack a Fey in the face with them in the process. Those tricksters had been becoming more of an annoyance every night, becoming bolder in their pranks, and Oberon had done nothing to stop them, either. So much for their liege lord's 'protection', he'd thought sourly as he tucked his wings in again.

He remembered taking a quick look down at himself, then around at the other members of his clan, wondering if any sort of nasty surprise had been done to them while they slept again. Last night, every male in the clan had woken up with their skin, tunics and loincloths dotted here and there with this red-colored waxy substance, several of the markings seeming to be in the shape of a pair of lips. (At least that had just been annoying, and hadn't done any damage, unlike what had happened later to poor Achilles; he'd cracked a tooth last night when the bread he'd been chewing had turned to stone in mid-bite.)

Tonight, though, nothing seemed out of place on himself or any of the clan members closest to him, so he'd gestured for Boudicca to come up to him, so he could pick her up for the usual glide down to the courtyard for dinner.

He remembered noticing that instead of immediately bounding up, Boudicca was sniffing at the stones around her, and growling low and menacingly. That was unusual for her, and after giving his mate Ophelia a quick hug of greeting, Nimrod had decided to crouch down so he could sniff at what was upsetting Boudicca. "Smells like we had a cat up here!" he'd reported with a puzzled look; they all knew that most cats wouldn't go anywhere near Boudicca even when she slept, after her reign of terror over them from her hatchling-puppy days.

"A pet of one of the Fey, maybe," Gabriel had guessed as he scooped Boudicca up for the glide to the courtyard. "Let's see if our dinner tonight is edible or not; if it isn't, we're going hunting tonight, and feasting in the woods." And he'd thought that he would tell Ophelia to pack her precious few steel-tipped arrows for it, too; with luck, the steel would pierce right through whatever deviltry the Fey might place in the arrow's path.

He remembered tucking Boudicca into her usual carrying position, and stepping up to his usual launching point, when Samson had called out, sounding worried, "Michael? Menalippe?" He'd looked across the roof at Samson, who was scratching his head while looking about him, and asking Artemis next to him if she remembered whether or not Michael and Menalippe had chosen to perch elsewhere that morning.

"No, they were there, and sharing a perch as usual," Artemis had said with a worried look around. "I remember seeing them just moments before dawn, and thinking that hugging each other wouldn't make for a very fierce pose."

He remembered setting Boudicca down and bounding over to their usual perch, inspecting for fresh gravel. Last night they'd swept the battlements again, like they did every fourth night to keep the stuff from piling ankle-deep, and while most perches were now littered with stone shards and gravel again, their perch was completely bare.

Hoping against hope, he'd filled his lungs and bellowed out, "**MICHAEL! MENALIPPE!**" If they were anywhere within a half -mile of the castle, they'd hear their clan leader's summons and get their tails in the air to report as fast as possible.

But they hadn't showed up, hadn't called out to respond from elsewhere in the castle, and Boudicca had bounded up beside him and thrust her nose to the stone, growling; then she'd lifted her muzzled and howled in despair. Their rookery brother and sister were gone, vanished without a trace!

The next few minutes had been a jumble of outraged and fearful voices and faces. He remembered talking with Princess Katherine and Tom, so he supposed he must have flown down to the courtyard after all; he'd been demanding to know if they'd seen what had happened to Michael and Menalippe. But their perch had been out of line-of-sight of both the courtyard and the humans' private quarters, and neither of them knew anything about it.

He clearly remembered stomping off to the high court chamber, his spiked tail lashing with rage, and swearing up and down that these twice-cursed immortals were going to find out the hard way that they'd been playing their pranks on the wrong gargoyles. He'd already had a bellyful of them before going to sleep that dawn, but this was going seven leagues too far! If Oberon didn't keep his pranksters in line from now on, and produce his rookery brother and sister immediately and unharmed, he would have Fey blood on his talons before the night was over!

He remembered shoving open the doors to the high court chamber with a resounding crash, and seeing Oberon and Titania on their thrones with the Weird Sisters standing to Oberon's right, while the other Fey clustered around them or in groups off to the side. He remembered seeing Titania looking at him with just a shadow of surprise and concern flitting across her face, while Oberon looked surprised but annoyed at the intrusion. He remembered bellowing out Oberon's name, without even attempting to preface it with the usual "Your majesty" or "My lord" excrement, and seeing that annoyance turn to outright anger, but right then, full of righteous anger himself, he hadn't given a stone shard about protocol.

He remembered bounding forward, shoving aside a few Fey to stand before the thrones, and slamming both feet down in front of the two thrones, deliberately letting his talons sink into and through the tile stones to remind them all that gargoyles are not without natural weapons. He remembered seeing Oberon's light blue face grow a darker shade of blue with anger, but he'd only bared his fangs in response. He remembered confronting Oberon with an angry, "Your pranksters have gone too far this time!" He had barely noticed the three Weird Sisters all frowning in unison or Luna raising a hand in the air as he went on, "Two members of my clan are missing, stolen from their perch while they slept! I demand that you return them to us immediately, and find and punish the Fey responsible, or I will _yap yap yap yap yap_!" By the time he'd realized what his own voice had been turned into, Selene had gestured as well and a close-fitting cage of leather and bronze had suddenly appeared and wrapped around his head, shutting his mouth so fast he nearly bit off his tongue, and clamping so tight he couldn't open it again.

He remembered Phoebe saying with a nasty smirk, "Annoying pets are muzzled," as Gabriel had struggled to get the device off his head. It was no good; the cursed thing had melded itself to his skin! And Oberon had done nothing but give a cold smile of approval… The cruel laughter of the Fey had echoed around him as the three sisters gestured together, and a sudden wind had blown him backwards through the chamber doors.

He remembered stumbling back to the courtyard, still struggling to get the muzzle off himself without ripping half of his face off in the process. He remembered the looks of horror on his clan's faces as they saw what Oberon had done to him. He remembered Tom declaring, "Eggs, as much as I'd like to shove a blade down Lord Oberon's throat right now, it's time to start packing instead! At his full power, he's too much for us to fight without half of us getting killed in the process, even if we started the bell ringing again. And these Fey make for bad neighbors anyway, so it's time to join Goliath and his clan in the outer world! Now get moving; I want all of you down by the skiffs in fifteen minutes! GO!" And as the other gargoyles had run off to grab what few belongings they had and head down to the skiffs, Tom had laid a hand on his shoulder and assured him, with a voice roughened by tears, "We'll see about getting that cursed thing off ye once we're off the island, lad. Dinna ye fret, now; we're going to join Angela…"

But they hadn't, because they couldn't. He remembered how they'd all piled into the skiffs and shoved off as fast as possible without leaving anyone behind by accident (Ophelia had done a quick roll call before the first skiff was shoved off, just to make sure that they were missing only Michael and Menalippe.) And he remembered that, instead of the mists of passage appearing before them once they were far enough away from the beach, a monstrous wave had appeared instead, and overturned the first skiff.

Princess Katherine had almost drowned before web-winged Pericles, their best swimmer, had gotten under her and floated her to the surface. Tom, weighted down by his armor, would have gone straight to the bottom if Gabriel hadn't grabbed him with one hand and their skiff with the other as it capsized, then heaved him onto the overturned hull with all his remaining strength. The other skiffs were capsized, too, and the waves drove them back to the beach. Coughing up water and staggering out of the surf, the gargoyles had looked on in dull horror as the skiffs were smashed upon the rocks. Oberon commanded all of Avalon, even the very air they breathed, and he wasn't letting anyone leave his Gathering, not even mortals.

He remembered how the clan had gathered there on the beach, looking at each other in bewildered terror, desperate for an idea of what to do next. They couldn't stay here any longer, not where they were easy prey for the Fey in their stone sleep, but they couldn't leave either! Then Ophelia had remembered, with a burst of desperate hope, that they weren't the only gargoyles on the island; the Guatemalan gargoyles, Jade and Turquesa, were still tending their New Green on the southern shore of Avalon! And they had protection that let them stay awake during the day! So they'd salvaged what belongings they could from the surf, and set off for the southern shore.

They'd found Jade and Turquesa, explained what had happened, and been made welcome to the little hut the pair had made while tending their new plants. And when Ophelia had fretted about the pranksters finding them there as well, Raphael, with a wicked grin, had reached into his sack of belongings and pulled out, instead of his panpipes, the iron bell! He'd decided to retrieve it from the dungeon it was kept in, instead of getting his pipes in the fifteen minutes they'd had to pack, because he'd had a hunch that their troubles wouldn't be over when they'd reached the outer world. Gabriel could have kissed him just then, if not for the cursed muzzle blocking him. They'd set up the bell on top of the hut, so it could ring out unobstructed, and made a sanctuary for themselves by ringing it; no Fey could come within hearing range without cringing in agony. They knew all too well that Oberon could swat them all like bugs from a distance, without venturing into range of the bell, but at least this would keep the pranksters away.

He remembered all too well the last few minutes before the next sunrise; remembered the tears in Tom's eyes, and the sympathetic groans of his brothers, as they held him down and held his horns to immobilize his head. Cursing the Fey with every breath, Tom had laid his steel dagger against Gabriel's skin and worked the edge under each point where the muzzle adhered to his head, slicing it off along with layers of his skin. When they finally had it off him, his head was covered with more red than gray-green, and his involuntary howls of pain had died to helpless, agonized whimpers. But they'd timed it well; in less than five minutes he was embraced by the healing sleep of stone. His last thought of the night was intense relief that it was over.

Except it wasn't over at all. He awoke that evening with all his cuts and slashes healed, not even a scar remaining. But when he opened his mouth to assure the anxious princess and guardian that he felt fine, to his horror, only a high-pitched yapping emerged. The curse hadn't ended when the muzzle had been cut off of him; if anything, it had gotten worse. And then Oberon had sent his image out over the Green, reminding them sternly in a voice that rolled like thunder that they were his honor guard, and he expected them to be at their posts.

Several of his more brash siblings had shouted obscene suggestions about what he could do with his posts, but Oberon just acted like he didn't hear them. (And he hadn't, they realized later; in order to hear them, he would also have had to hear the bell. Oberon was just talking without listening, one of the things he did best. ) He commanded them to provide a full watch within the hour, as price for their staying on his island (and Tom had gone nearly purple with rage as he'd bellowed that they'd be happy to go now, if only he'd let them! But that had been ignored as well), or there would be dire consequences. Then his image had vanished, and they were left alone to debate.

Several members of the clan had wanted to just stay put where they were and see what the consequences would be. If they were lucky, when he kicked them off Avalon they'd go straight to Manhattan! But there was no guarantee that his 'consequences' would be banishment; in fact, given the fact that he had to have been aware of their flight to sea and had refused to lift his barriers for them, banishment probably was not what he had in mind. Tom reminded them grimly that the first time they'd tried to resist him, Oberon had nearly buried the clan alive within seconds. He didn't see how the 'consequences' could be more dire than that, but he was sure that the Fey King would find a way.

And so they'd picked twelve of their bravest, most patient and long suffering warriors to take up the honor guard posts at the castle. The twelve had left the New Green, promising that they would leave before sunrise in order to get back to their improvised sanctuary for sleep. And that was how they had lived, most of them cowering in the New Green while the rest suffered the now-nearly-nonstop pranks of the tricksters, until Goliath and Hudson had come with a plan to release them.

Gabriel finished writing his narrative there, looked at the sheets of paper he'd written on and was slightly ashamed to find tearstains here and there amidst the ink. He handed the sheets to Owen, who read them silently all the way through, even though it was really more information than he'd needed to know about the curse. He thought he saw Owen's jaw tighten in anger once or twice, but it could have been just a flickering of the light. When he was finished, Owen said half to himself, "There are times when I would greatly desire to... Hmph."

Owen shook his head as he said, "Gabriel, you were cursed by the Weird Sisters not once, but twice in succession. The first was for the voice, and the second for the muzzle. And when Tom cut the muzzle off you with a steel blade, to prevent you from starving to death, the presence of iron…snarled the threads, so to speak, of the first curse. It will now be much more difficult to remove, and Alexander will require a few years' worth of simpler lessons before I can teach him how to undo that curse without snarling it even worse." He paused briefly, then let true sympathy show in his eyes for a moment as he said, "I am truly sorry."

"But ye will be able to remove it eventually?" Tom said hopefully. When Owen said yes, in perhaps four or five years, Tom said with a forced grin, " And ye've a long life ahead of ye, Gabriel, so dinna give up hope! Four or five years, why, that's nothing to a gargoyle! The years will just fly by!" But Gabriel couldn't quite meet his eyes.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

They had been awake for all of the eternal-summer's night on Avalon, leaving its shore just before dawn, and then been present for most of the long winter's night in New York. Despite all the excitement they'd been experiencing, all the gargoyles from Avalon and those who had helped to rescue them from Oberon's cruelty were yawning and stumbling with fatigue by the pre-dawn hours, and looking forward to a good day's sleep. Jade and Turquesa hadn't even stirred from the beds they'd flopped down in soon after their arrival; it was hoped that they'd awaken at sunset as refreshed as everyone else.

Elisa and Matt had regretfully left soon after midnight, to return to their duties with the NYPD. But as soon as her shift was over, Elisa headed straight back to the castle, arriving just before Goliath declared it was time to head outside and choose perches for the day.

Choosing perches for the newcomers' first dawn at Castle Wyvern took a while, with several minor squabbles breaking out here and there as to who would get the spots with the best views of the city, and who would perch in the lower tiers of the battlements, where they would probably get gravel rained on them from the higher perches at sunset. Goliath largely stayed out of the disputes, letting Brooklyn step up to his role as Second-in-Command; the brick-red gargoyle reinforced his authority in the greatly expanded clan by breaking up the squabbles and forcefully assigning perches when necessary.

Some squabbles were broken up even before Brooklyn could attend to them, by Gabriel; even though he remained silent as much as possible, all he usually had to do to stop the squabbling was lay hands on shoulders and give his rookery brothers and sisters meaningful looks, ranging from sympathetic to glaring as appropriate.

Looking down from the very highest perch while holding her husband's arm, Elisa quietly observed, "The new kids still see Gabriel as their authority figure." And when Goliath murmured agreement, she continued, "Are you going to give him a leadership position in your clan, since they're apt to listen to him anyway?"

"I'll have to think about it," Goliath said finally, frowning in thought. "Traditionally, we've only the two leadership positions, Leader and Second; clan elders have some authority as well, as mentors, but Gabriel is simply too young and inexperienced in modern life to qualify for that. And there's the issue of that curse rendering him voiceless for the next few years; one generally needs a voice to give orders…"

"There should be a way around that; I'll talk to Derek and Claw about sign language lessons tomorrow night," Elisa offered. "But right now…" She poked at Goliath's belt pouch and smiled at him as she suggested, "One for Hudson?" He knew immediately what she was referring to, and nodded agreement with a smile of his own. "Can I give it to him? I want it to be a surprise."

"Of course, my love," he said indulgently, as he opened the pouch and pulled out two pendants, passing one to Elisa before quietly donning the other.

Elisa slipped the pendant into her jacket pocket before going down the steep stairs to the next level, where Hudson and Ursula had chosen relatively high perches that matched their status as clan elders and mentors. "Hey, Hudson; it's been quite a night, hasn't it?"

"That it has, lass," Hudson said after politely smothering a yawn, and he grinned at her. "And I've no doubt that our nights will continue to be eventful for several weeks yet, with so many newcomers to the clan! I expect it will be a week or more before I can keep everyone's names straight."

"Yeah, there've been a lot of introductions tonight, that's for sure!" as Elisa gave him a friendly hug, which he gladly returned. She did not hug Ursula, giving her a respectful nod instead, a gesture which Ursula also returned. Then she faced Hudson again, as her smile grew sly. "But there's one introduction that hasn't been made yet…"

Hudson looked quizzical. "An' who would that be, lass?"

"You'll see," was all she said, before she went back up the stairs to Goliath's perch, having used the hug to discreetly tuck the pendant inside Hudson's belt.

A few minutes later, just as the sun began to peek over the horizon, all the gargoyles stiffened in their various fierce poses and the familiar barely-audible susurration was heard all around as flesh turned to stone. All but two, that is; Goliath remained flesh alongside his beloved Elisa, flesh and grinning from ear to ear. She grinned back and gestured downwards, and he swept her into his arms while flipping his wings out, to lightly leap down from the highest perch to Hudson's level. They landed behind Hudson as the elder looked about him in a daze, seeing Ursula's stone figure to his left and Brooklyn to his right, then down at his hands still composed of flesh. "What sorcery is this?" he whispered in awe.

"Time for that introduction," Elisa said, smiling at him while turning him to face east. "Hudson… Meet the sun."

Hudson stared for a few seconds, then turned to Elisa, blinking back tears; they might have been tears from staring at the sun too long, or perhaps tears of joy instead. "Lass, I thank ye _forever_ for giving me this moment, but… how?"

"I tucked a magical pendant into your belt a few minutes ago," Elisa said with a mischievous grin as she pointed to it. "It's one of those used by the Guatemalan gargoyles to stay awake by day so they can protect their New Green."

"The dawning sun is a glorious sight, isn't it?" Goliath said, still smiling. "I can remember seeing it once before, when I wore the Eye of Odin… but I was transformed, not really myself. Seeing it now, it's even more beautiful." He turned to Elisa, and stared at her for a moment. "And so are you, my love. In sunlight, you are… so beautiful, so lovely, so…"

They kissed for several seconds, breaking apart only when startled by sound of stone crackling. They turned to see Ursula shaking off her stone shell, while being embraced by Hudson from behind. "Oh! What… What's happened?" she asked in utter bewilderment.

"A few moments ago, lass, Elisa introduced me to sunlight," Hudson murmured into her ear. "And now, I'm introducing it to you."

It was the dawn of a new day, a new year, a new life in Manhattan and a new era in gargoyles-human relations… and those still awake atop the castle turned to face it together.

THE END


	7. Life Goes On, and On  The Epilogues

**Escape from Avalon, Part 7: **

**Life Goes On… and On… and On! (The Epilogues)**

"…And on the seventh day, she rested."

Part of what caused me to delay that sixth chapter for so long was because I admitted to myself many months ago that this would have to follow it; the announcement that this will be the last Gargoyles story I'll ever write out in full, at least for the foreseeable future.

I know I'm letting down a lot of people with this announcement, and I'm sorry for the disappointment, but I need to be honest with you; my heart's just not in this anymore, not the way it used to be. I still love the show and always will, but it's not the life-consuming obsession that it used to be for me, from the year 2000 to 2010.

I said once before in one of my "Kimberly's Ramblings" that I had over ten more years' worth of stories to tell, through 2008 in the "Life Goes On" timeline. And I do still have those stories in my head, and even several scenes and snippets for them written out and stored in MSWord and Text documents in my computer. But I've finally come to realize that I simply do not have the time and the creative energy to devote to writing those stories out in full.

I also realized a few years back that except for Goliath and Elisa, Angela and Gabriel, and Demona's trials and tribulations, most of those stories were about all the OC's I'd created, Angela's rookery brothers and sisters from the Avalon Clan. Oh, the canon characters were there, but except for the five that I just mentioned they weren't really central to the stories anymore; they did have some adventures and additional character development, but they became more like supporting cast members instead of leads. And what most people are looking for when they read fanfic are the canon characters that they grew to love while watching the series.

The EAC (Ex-Avalon Clan) members of Wyvern Clan are, to my way of thinking, very much like college freshmen. They may be technically adults, but they're far from fully matured yet, and they grew up in a sheltered environment with few troubles and pressures. Oh, they had difficulties on occasion, but generally speaking it was nothing like what Goliath and his clan were going through, until the night the Archmage invaded. Now, only a few weeks later by their reckoning, they're abruptly thrust into a very different world, with a lot more pressures being put on them in ways they hadn't expected. Instead of striving to get good grades in classes that are so much tougher than high school, they're striving to become accepted by the population of New York while protecting their home and the people there-and oh yeah, just _surviving_ in a world of guns and even high-tech weapons against wings and claws! But it's still a situation most college students can relate to, particularly the ones whose parents have made it plain that they're not paying exorbitant college fees to see bad grades, and it's 'All A's or Outta There.'

Of course, it wouldn't all be as grim as that sounds; there would be moments like this, one of the many scene-snippets I'd written:

00oo00oo00oo00

(_First patrol without an original clan member along_; _Angus, Orion and Gideon just saved a young couple from a mugging, but Angus had gotten his shorts ripped up in the process_)

"Okay, fine, we're all heroes, but now what am I going to do for clothing?" Angus asked plaintively. "I can't go back to the castle naked; Princess will throw a _fit_, you know she will, and probably the new humans will too!"

"All right, calm down; we'll find you something," Gideon said reassuringly, as he began looking around. "All we need is a little cloth and a little twine, just enough to make a loincloth; that'll get you back to the castle without offending the humans. After all, that's about all Goliath wears…"

"Hey, look at this!" Orion said as he pointed straight upwards. They looked at what he was pointing at as he asked, "Would one of those work?"

"It might, except we'd have to modify it some. And I'm sure those belong to somebody; they probably wouldn't appreciate it if we took one and ruined it."

"Actually, I think it's exactly what we need," Orion said as he started climbing the wall. "It looks like it has a… I was right! Look, see here?" as he reached the level of a clothesline three stories up, pulled off the item closest to him with one hand and displayed it to his brothers below. "So long as you're careful putting it on, you won't ruin it, and we can return it once we get you a new outfit."

"That sounds good," Gideon called upwards, "but you'd still better ask first. The owner probably lives close by; try the window closest to you."

Just then, the curtain of window next to Orion was shoved aside, and a pale man's face loomed through the glass, probably attracted by the noise of Orion climbing the wall and calling down to his brothers. Orion gave him his most winning smile as he said cheerfully, "Greetings, sirrah! Might I borrow this item for my brother in need? We promise to return it…"

In greeting the strange human, Orion momentarily forgot that the image of an azure-skinned creature baring its fangs could be an unnerving sight for the average unprepared human in the middle of the night. But it turned out all right, because the man just said, "Y-you can keep it! You can have everything out there!" before hastily closing the curtain again.

Orion, Angus and Gideon all looked at each other, then shrugged. "Well, that was very kind of him," Orion said as he dropped the garment he was holding into Angus' waiting hands, then tugged on the clothesline to bring another one very similar to the first within his reach.

"Maybe he's following those Bible passages Princess read to us, about practicing charity and kindness to strangers," Angus suggested as he caught the garment and began carefully putting it on.

"Well, it's still very nice of him. It's too bad there's no decent hunting around here, because otherwise I'd bring him a joint of venison as a return gift. Gideon, did you want one too?"

"Mmm, no, I'll keep what I have on. But we can bring the rest back to the castle and see if anyone else wants new clothes." The gargoyles were firm believers in 'waste not, want not'.

Angus finished putting his new clothing on and surveyed himself. "The fabric's a little flimsy, and it doesn't fit quite right, but I like the pattern…"

Twenty minutes later, the trio came gliding back to the castle, and met Antiope and Isabel while they were standing watch on the battlements. "Hello, my loves!" Antiope said as she received hugs and kisses from Angus and Orion. "Gideon, Hippolyta's still on patrol to the south. So, how did your patrol go? And where did you get your new clothes, my loves?"

"A man just let us have them, and a few others to share, after we saved the lives of another couple," Orion told her as he turned around slowly, so she could see how his new clothing looked from all angles. "What do you think?"

"Mm, rather nice! The fabric is so smooth," as she playfully squeezed first Orion's, than Angus' buttocks, eliciting soft appreciative growls from both of them, "and they're both pretty patterns. But the fit isn't quite right, is it? Well, perhaps Deborah and Jephthah can tailor them a little… What do you think, Isabel?"

"Mmph," was all Isabel could say, with her hands clamped tightly over her muzzle. She couldn't laugh, she didn't dare laugh…

Angus and Orion were wearing silk boxer shorts. Backwards, so their tails were poking out through the paneled gaps that normally went in front. Angus's had little red hearts all over it, and Orion's was covered with little red kisses…

00oo00oo00oo00

As the year 1997 rolls from winter into spring and early summer, there would be a lot of interactions between the new clan members and the People for Interspecies Tolerance, that would eventually spread to the general student population of Columbia University. There would be shenanigans like car-surfing (riding on top of a car as it picked up speed, until they had enough lift under their wings to launch and start gliding), and drinking at frat parties, and rooting for the home team at football and basketball games that continued past sunset. There would be dirty pranks, and misunderstandings that would sometimes be hilarious and sometimes ugly or tragic, and exposures of misogyny and scandal and crime and love affairs and… well, lots of life lessons, as both gargoyles and humans grow up and learn to truly coexist.

There would also have been a lot of questions answered about the villains and even unsung heroes of this story. But rather than leave everyone hanging, I'll answer a few of those questions right now. The following scenes would have appeared in the very next story in "Life Goes On":

00oo00oo00oo00

"Good afternoon, detective," Xanatos said pleasantly. "What brings you to the castle today? If you're looking for Anne, I'm afraid she chose to spend her day off in the Labyrinth, seeing her friends there."

"I know she's there; that's why I'm here now," Matt responded. "I wanted to ask you a couple of questions, strictly off the record and well out of her hearing. To start with, have you—or should I say, anyone you hired—been up to a little mischief in Florida lately?"

"Florida?" Xanatos looked puzzled. "Not that I know of; why do you ask?"

"I'm asking because the police in Palm Beach called the 23rd Precinct today, asking us to question Anne about what recently happened to Quentin Marsden; Philip Marsden's great-uncle."

Xanatos cocked his head in curiosity. "What happened to him?"

"The last thing that happened to him was that he died of heat exhaustion, as far as the coroner could tell; went into a sauna, fell asleep or unconscious and wasn't found until they shut the place down at closing."

"A sauna, in Florida? He wasn't hot and humid enough already?"

Bluestone nodded. "I couldn't believe it either, but it turns out Marsden's next-door neighbor had recommended he go to a sauna, to—here's where it gets even weirder—to sweat out the poison in his system, a poison that probably wasn't there. Marsden had called the police five days ago and insisted that he'd been poisoned, even though neither the police nor the doctors-or the coroner, for that matter-found any evidence of it on or in his body. When he'd told them that the alleged slow-acting poison had been given to him by a man named Nadie, the police figured it was all a prank, because Nadie is Spanish for 'Nobody'."

"So Nobody poisoned him," Xanatos said with a smirk. "Sounds like a frat boy prank to me."

"You're not the only one that's leaning in that direction; the sergeant at the 23rd who took the call asked if they were checking the local college for suspects. But here's the thing, the reason why I'm up here: Marsden told the police the alleged poisoning had been done in revenge for his niece Penny Marsden, Phil's mother, as well as for Phillip himself. Though he'd also said that the poisoner had told him 'Pietro sends his regards', and when the police asked him if he could clarify that, Marsden clammed up and wouldn't say anything more. …And I was about to say the police were also looking into possible ties between Marsden and the Russian mobs, since they have a strong presence in Florida now, but _that name means something to you_; I saw that little change of expression before you hid it," Matt said, eyeing him narrowly. "What do you know, Xanatos?"

"I know nothing. For the record, I _**know**_ nothing at all," Xanatos said firmly.

Matt sighed loudly. "Okay… And _off_ the record?"

"Off the record, I still _know_ nothing… but I _suspect_ a great deal," Xanatos admitted. "You recall Puck's words to Anne about Phil's father, the day you first met her here?"

Matt nodded and replied, "That the father was almost certainly a Fey, but he didn't know who."

Xanatos shook his head. "Not that he didn't know who it was… he said that he _could not say_ who it was. When you're dealing with Fey, the wording is everything. So when I asked Owen later if he could at least tell _me_ who the daddy was… he said that if I valued his employment, and I quote, 'I strongly urge you to never ask me that again.' End quote. And as Owen Burnett, Puck is as loyal as anyone can be; he swore to me a lifetime of service, and that service includes giving me answers to whatever questions I ask. Do you see the implication here?"

Matt frowned. "I think I do… Telling you the answer to that question would conflict with another oath he made, one that takes precedence over your wishes. Or maybe he's actually unable to tell you, because of something like that magical binding that Goliath said Oberon put on Puck, binding his powers so he can't use them unless he's protecting or teaching Alexander."

"A geas; a magical oath that can't be broken, not without great cost to the oathbreaker," Xanatos informed him. "Get a Fey to promise you something, and he's _guaranteed_ to deliver on that promise… though the wording of the oath may allow loopholes that he'll be happy to use to his advantage instead. And a word to the wise, Fey don't like it at all when someone _makes _them swear to something. But those oaths can be forced on them, and with Oberon being Puck's liege lord, he can invoke a geas on his subject at will."

"Oh _crap_, don't tell me that _Oberon_ is Bethany's granddaddy!" Matt gripped the armrests of his chair, his face filled with dismay. "He did enough damage to Manhattan the first time he came here, and Alexander's not actually _his_ grandkid!"

"More damage than probably even you know, but no, I don't think it's Oberon; not anymore," Xanatos said, shaking his head. "I came to that conclusion after I hired investigators to dig up everything they could on the Marsden family. I've still got the report in a safe elsewhere; wait here and I'll bring it to you," as Xanatos left the office.

Ten minutes later he came back with a three-ring binder full of papers, and handed it over to Matt. "Here you are; an evening's light reading. Only you and I know about this report, and I'd prefer it if you kept it that way. Without knowing the exact wording of the geas Puck is under, even his knowing that someone had been looking into the matter may be enough to trigger the consequences of breaking it. And I prefer my personal aide to stay right where he is and in one piece, thank you very much."

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Two days later, Matt came by the castle again to see Anne and Bethany. He was delighted to see Bethany making the huge Super Grover doll that she'd gotten for Christmas fly around the nursery, chasing the giggling baby Alexander as he flew about; it was the first time either child had made use of their magical heritage since their kidnapping a few days before Christmas. On his way out of the castle, he stopped by Xanatos' office and asked, "Can we talk? Somewhere beside the castle?"

Xanatos didn't need to ask what Matt wanted to talk about; he said simply, "Tavern on the Green, tomorrow at six o'clock. Come hungry; the steaks are on me."

The next day Matt arrived at Tavern on the Green in his best suit and tie, still feeling underdressed, but the staff was courteous enough as they ushered him into the private room where Xanatos was waiting for him. They both ordered the house steak, and once the waiters had departed and they were completely alone, Matt said bluntly, "Puck's the father, isn't he? Phil's father, Bethany's grandfather. And somehow, old Quentin Marsden put one helluva geas on him, to keep him far away from the family and having nothing to do with them. And not only that, but to keep him from even telling anyone he had a son, or even that a geas had been put on him."

Xanatos nodded grimly. "That's what I figured too. What led you to that conclusion?"

"First off, the name of Penny's lover. Pietro Ursovich Korsokov; take the initials and you have P-U-K, Puck. And something else I recalled, from Goliath's bachelor party, when Owen was bartending for everybody; I'd asked Owen if he'd ever worked in a bar. I wasn't seriously asking, I'd just meant he was doing as well as any professional bartender would do. But he told me that he had worked in a bar, once. And Pietro Ursovich Korsokov made his living by bartending.

"I thought at first that was too easy, that the bartending was a coincidence and the name was a little misdirection by one of the other Fey tricksters. But the house in those photos was loaded with anti-Fey devices. Iron bells, iron everywhere, even on the chimney, and there were plenty of those same plants that you grow in your garden, the ones Owen warned me to keep Bethany far away from. Having one or the other present could be a coincidence, just an eccentricity on the Marsden family's part, but not both. Someone in that house knew about the Fey's weaknesses and was determined to keep them out, and probably put all that up just in case the geas ever failed. It's possible that the father is some friend of Puck's who was so ashamed at being bested by a mere human that he made Puck swear never to tell… but it's a lot more likely that the one being kept out was Puck himself."

"Much more likely," Xanatos agreed. "Especially considering how Anne was hired. He and I had both heard about how she'd lost her husband and just about everything else in her life, but Owen didn't recommend her for Alexander's nanny until after he met Bethany, and looked at her with his True Sight. And then two minutes later—not even two minutes, really—he was all but begging me to hire her mother and bring her to the castle, and Bethany with her."

"And he's always happy to mind the kids for a while when I come up to see Anne, even more than the gargoyles are," Matt mused. "Because he's not Uncle Puck, he's Grandpa Puck."

Xanatos nodded, then said wryly, "You and I seem to keep finding more in common, detective. First the Illuminati, then aiding the gargoyles, and now having Fey for in-laws..."

"Yeah, that's going to be—hey, wait a damn minute!" Matt protested. "Puck is _**not**_ my father-in-law, or step-grandfather-in-law, or whatever! Anne and I are _not_ married, not even engaged; not even sleeping together, not that it's any of your business!"

Xanatos dismissed his protestation with a wave of his hand. "You love her, she loves you, and the sooner you stop fighting it and get married, the happier Bethany and the clan will be. Why did you think I'm having that set of apartments built into the Aerie building for, on the floor just below the arboretum? Security for that floor will be as tight as for the castle itself, and they'll be for people who can't officially live in the castle proper without Internal Affairs asking a lot of questions. Elisa will get the first apartment, but they'll all be ready for occupation in time for a spring wedding. But let's get back to the matter of the Marsden family," he continued while Matt stated at him open-mouthed. "I've been wanting to tell someone who knows about the situation that in a way, I'm almost grateful to them for what they did."

Matt finally shut his mouth, then opened it again to ask, "Almost grateful? How so?"

"Because otherwise, I wouldn't have Owen at my side. And more than that, I wouldn't have Alexander. Puck said he'd modeled his Owen persona after Preston Vogel, determined to 'out-Vogel Vogel'… to be as wooden and unemotional as possible. He said he did it because it was a challenge, but I'm thinking now that he also wanted to avoid what had happened the last time he took on a long-term persona; falling in love with a mortal woman. Falling in love, and starting a family; that's what Pietro did, until somehow Quentin Marsden forced him away from his lover and their unborn child. The Owen Burnett I hired away from Cyberbiotics was brilliant in business and ruthlessly competent, and about as likely to fall in love and start a family as I'd be likely to win the Miss America contest."

Matt was usually the one stuck in the role of straight man, so when he saw the opportunity, it was a shot he couldn't resist; he smirked as he cracked, "But you'd look so cute in a tiara!"

"Oh, shut up. Seriously, if Puck had continued as Pietro, I wouldn't have Owen with me now. And once Fox and I married and had Alexander… if not for Owen, we would have lost him forever. Owen knew about Anastasia Renard's true nature, and what she was apt to do with her grandson, even if he didn't tell me ahead of time. I've a hunch that Titania forbid Puck to tell anyone, for any reason, before she revealed herself; another geas. But even if he couldn't tell anyone about her plans, he could do something about them.

"Owen built into the building every anti-Fey device we used, in the battle to keep Alexander from being taken to Avalon. And when all our defenses weren't enough, when the gargoyles weren't enough… Puck stepped in, and did his best to kick the shit out of Oberon, his own liege lord. Someone he'd sworn an _eternity_ of service to, while I just have a mortal lifetime of service. He had to have done that knowing there'd be serious consequences for him, whether or not what happened was what he expected. And now I don't think he would have done that if he hadn't already known… how agonizing it is for a parent to lose a child forever."

Matt slowly nodded. "You're probably right. It all fits together. It all fits, and we can't ever talk to him about it…"

"To him, or to Anne or Bethany. I haven't even told Fox about this, and I'd appreciate your not telling Elisa about this unless you see a real need to. And not a word of this to the gargoyles at all; they all wear their hearts on their sleeves—well, their wings, and there's no way they'd be able to keep from expressing sympathy for him, and asking if he wants to talk about it…"

"And probably triggering that damn geas in the process," Matt finished.

Xanatos nodded. "If I knew how to break the geas on him without any consequences, I'd do it in a heartbeat, but nothing I've tried so far as worked. In hopes that it was tied to a physical object, I emptied that house of the last Marsden in it, bought the place and had everything ripped out right down to the foundation, every last scrap of it burned or melted down, but that didn't work."

"So you were the one behind that," Matt said with a nod. "I contacted the police in Scranton yesterday, and they told me about the recent reopening of the investigation into Penny Marsden's death. The detective I talked to said they hadn't been able to prove murder, but from what they'd gathered while the investigation had been going on, they'd have had a helluva case for child abuse if the district attorney had been willing to pursue it." Matt grimaced before adding, "He wasn't; Quentin had too many connections in their town's 'old boy network,' and neither Penny nor Phil were alive to press charges themselves. But the detective arranged for the church authorities to receive a copy of his report, and hinted that more might be leaked to the press if they didn't do something."

"So the church authorities ousted him from the pulpit for good, and he left for Florida," Xanatos finished with a nod of satisfaction, before frowning again. "And now Quentin Marsden is dead, but Puck hasn't started telling Bethany to call him 'grandpa' or given any other sign of a binding breaking, so the geas wasn't tied to the old man either. He may be stuck with that geas forever."

Matt shook his head in sympathy, then smiled wryly. "At least when Marsden bound him to stay away from his offspring, he didn't say something like 'unto the last generation'."

"Otherwise I'd be lacking a trustworthy nanny for Alexander, and for all we know, you'd be lacking a girlfriend," Xanatos added before looking off to the right, from where a waiter was approaching. "I think that's our steaks now…"

The dinner was excellent, of course. And while they were sipping coffee afterwards, Xanatos asked, "By the way, what do you plan to tell the police in Florida about their possible lead on the prank played on Quentin Marsden?"

"That I'm completely satisfied that Anne Marsden had nothing to do with it," Matt said promptly. "Far as we're concerned, it was just some college kid screwing with old people out of the typical juvenile arrogance, and Quentin's death afterwards was entirely due to his own foolishness. Every sauna has a warning sign about going in with a heart or vascular condition, or staying in too long; he chose to ignore the warning; case closed. And good riddance to him, too. If I'd been Puck—or Owen, probably, through some local he hired—I just might have arranged for something a bit nastier than a fake poisoning, for that hard-hearted old bastard. From what the detective in Scranton told me about the signs of child abuse…" He shook his head in disgust.

"Oh, there was definitely abuse," Xanatos scowled. "Even if Quentin had never laid a hand on little Phil Marsden, there was definitely abuse going on. I'm surprised you didn't put this together yourself, detective, from what was in the report. There was plenty of iron on the _inside_ of that house as well as the outside, including iron bells hanging in every room. You know how Bethany was using her Second Sight long before she came to the castle, and Alexander was doing magic before he turned three months old. And how much it hurt them to spend just one day and night in that damn steel cell Thailog put them in when they were kidnapped. It's taken _weeks_ for them to show any interest in magic again, because it hurt so much to use it when they were surrounded by iron. And Philip Marsden spent his entire childhood in that house…"

"…Oh, _fuck me_!" Matt's face was utterly appalled.

Xanatos nodded grimly. "To most people, Philip Marsden probably looked and acted like a normal human being. But he wasn't, he was half-Fey… and Quentin Marsden deliberately, through repeated inflictions of pain from infancy onward, denied him the use of his Fey magic. Quentin not only made his niece's life miserable, he _crippled _his brother's grandson."

Matt set down his coffee and pushed the cup away, looking sick. "I changed my mind; no dessert tonight."

"Just don't lose the steak you ate," Xanatos told him. "The chef here might commit _hara-kiri_ if he thinks you got food poisoning from his cooking."

After a few moments, Matt collected his composure and asked, "Have you told Anne about the old bastard's death yet? Bethany is his last known relative, after all."

"Not yet. Oh, she'll learn about it, and by extension so will Owen; I just haven't decided how yet. From everything I've learned about him, I'd be absolutely astonished if Bethany was mentioned in Quentin Marsden's will. I'd thought briefly about dummying up a will anyway, something for Bethany's college fund, but Anne would probably refuse any money from him on principle. Too much of that annoying quality of integrity," he said to Matt, who only grinned in reply. "Why don't you stop by the castle again tomorrow and tell her yourself? Policemen offer official condolences all the time, don't they?"

"We do," Matt nodded. "And I think I'll just absent-mindedly change the date of death to today instead of three days ago, and forget to say anything about any link between the death and a prank by a Pietro. Who knows, maybe his actually knowing the man is dead—and _not_ by his own hand in any way—will be what frees Puck from the geas. In which case, you should probably brace for fireworks—or floodworks, either one."

Xanatos snorted. "Fireworks, most likely, but I'll have the housekeepers bring an extra case of tissues up for the occasion."

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

But in the end, there were neither fireworks nor floodworks. Anne just shook her head and said that it was saddening, but that it was the man's own fault that he had no one grieving for him, and that she saw no reason to tell Bethany anything. Owen, standing nearby while Matt gave the official condolences to Anne, just nodded as if in acknowledgment before leaving the room for his own quarters. Matt shrugged at Xanatos, Xanatos shrugged back, and life went on.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

Much later, through use of flashbacks and Puck's internal monologue, the full truth and tragedy of his involvement with Penny and the geas on him comes out:

Pietro Ursovich Korsokov insisted on following his beloved Penny back to Scranton, fully intent on supporting his lover and his unborn child, on becoming a good husband and father (good by Fey standards, anyway), and keeping that persona for the rest of his family's mortal lives. When Penny fretted about him finding a job and supporting them, rather than telling her that he was a Fey trickster who could make money out of thin air, Petro told her reassuringly that he "knew people" who would help them out, who owed him favors and would do anything for him. But when Penny nearly died in an accident caused by Quentin's carelessness, Pietro panicked and Puck came out in order to save her and the baby's lives.

Quentin had already hated Pietro just on general principles, for being a Godless Commie and for not acting as subservient or ingratiating as everyone who knew him in Scranton did. He saw Pietro's transformation into Puck, saw and feared and hated even more fiercely. In the confrontation that followed, Quentin got in a lucky shot with an iron cross that wounded Puck, and then tried to exorcise the 'evil spirit' from his home. In agony from being struck with iron, instead of fleeing immediately Puck turned to Penny and begged her to come away with him; he wasn't human but he loved her, and in his desperation he told her "You command my heart."

But Penny was still just too freaked about finding out that her lover wasn't human. She pulled back and shouted, "Just stay away from me! Don't come near me or my baby, ever!"

Then Quentin, in a moment of low cunning after he saw how Puck had instantly backed up several feet at Penny's words and was now looking at her helplessly from the doorway, shouted at Penny, "Don't forget, he said he knew people! We don't want them around, either!"

So Penny shouted at Puck, "Don't come near us, and don't ever tell anyone you even _know_ us, let alone that you—just _go away_!"

With an inhuman howl of despair, Puck vanished from their sight, bound by the geas that his own words had let Penny cast on him. Soon afterwards and for the rest of her miserable life, Penny bitterly regretted what she'd said and done, but never had the opportunity to try to undo it.

Fast-forward a quarter-century, to Owen meeting Bethany, and becoming a part of her and Anne's lives. Puck is forever silently grateful to Anne for making his son happy and for giving him a grandchild to adore, though he never makes their relationship known. Matt never tells Owen what he knows either, but just before he and Anne get married (of course), he nonchalantly tells Owen that they need to cultivate a mutual hobby, like bowling, so he has a reason to invite Owen along on family outings.

Owen Burnett becomes a reasonably skilled bowler, and on Sunday afternoons he can often be found with Matt, Anne and Bethany at the bowling alley owned by Matt's Uncle Eddie, bowling with the other adults and offering quiet praise for the pictures Bethany draws on the backs of all the score sheets.

.

Now to answer the inevitable questions about unresolved pairings, especially since I made such a big deal about them in the whole "Mating Games" story arc:

Yvette eventually chooses the Avalonian gargoyle Perseus for her mate. If you'd like to picture him better, watch "Avalon, Part II" again; he's the lime-green gargoyle who fought Demona during the initial attack and got one of his wings ripped up as a result (stone sleep healed it, fortunately.) Perseus is brave in battle but shy and awkward in social situations, and Yvette's beauty and charm leave him absolutely tongue-tied. Fortunately he loves music and is a talented flautist, and his duets with Yvette on the castle's piano are the start of their courtship and their happy lives together.

After being informed that Gabriel's curse won't be lifted for another five years at least, Marie promptly chooses Ajax for her mate. Her choice is based almost entirely on his looks; he's the most human-looking of the lot except for his olive-green skin, and Marie figures that they can pass it off as body-paint and go into lots of public places in New Orleans together. Since it turns out Ajax is not actually a very nice person, having committed a crime while growing up on Avalon that had gotten him exiled for a month and resulted in every female in the clan refusing to even consider him for a mate, everyone silently figures they deserve each other and they're shipped off to New Orleans (with a discreet warning to Adam) as soon as possible.

Heinrich finds great happiness with Naomi, who loves to listen to his stories and proclaims herself his biggest fan. Naomi has a lot of _joie de vivre_, and makes it her personal mission to make her mate smile or laugh at least once a day. After they become mates, when Heinrich becomes famous as the author of the 'Johnny Gargoyle' series of children's books, Naomi accompanies him on all his signing tours. When he starts appearing on talk shows as well, Naomi's exuberant nature makes her the darling of the talk show hosts and she ends up outshining him on TV, but Heinrich doesn't mind a bit; he's more than happy to let her have the spotlight, while he keeps on writing stories.

No, Demona does not find happiness with Yama; he very nearly asks her to be his mate, but instead a crisis hits the clan when Taro's latest scheme comes to fruition (with the assistance of the banished gargoyle Botan, as well as Robyn Canmore and Wolf from the Pack). At the end of the crisis, Sora and Yama finally reconcile, and Demona fakes her death and flees back to America before the tower of half-truths and lies she'd built up can come crashing down. The Ishimuran clan believes 'Di-Mono' died a hero and true gargoyle, and mourn her loss; when they learn what happened, the Manhattan Clan quietly agrees amongst themselves to not dispel that illusion, as it would benefit no one.

Thanks to Odin's powerful fertility spell, Goliath and Elisa end up having four children together; two sets of fraternal twins (a boy and a girl in each pair, as the spell specified strong sons and fine daughters.) The first pair of twins are mostly gargoyle but have five-fingered hands and can resist stone sleep for a brief while if they concentrate, just like Adam. Then after Demona's spell of human-by-day is transferred to Goliath (long story, involving lots of angst and a long-delayed vengeance and a great deal more than I dare go into right now), they have another set of twins, two children who inherit the spell and also transform into human by day and gargoyle by night.

Derek and Maggie's twin girls are born healthy and thriving, and named Faith and Hope; Faith has tawny fur like their mother and Hope has black fur like their father. Claw and Dana's son, born in midsummer and covered with striped fur like his father, is named Philo (Greek for Love.)

And yes, Angela and Gabriel become mates. But first Goliath makes Gabriel the clan's Master-At-Arms, a position of authority just under Brooklyn's rank in the clan, charged with keeping the peace and resolving minor disputes before they can become major ones. He and Angela both learn sign-language—actually, several clan members do, but only Gabriel and Angela undergo a language-acquisition spell in order to become instantly fluent in it. Angela becomes Gabriel's primary interpreter, his voice when speaking to other people of the clan, but he still keeps her at a distance emotionally. A month after arriving in New York, Angela finally confronts Gabriel about their feelings for each other:

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

When Angela entered the library, Gabriel was perched on the stool in the corner, reading. She walked up and lightly put her hand over the page he was reading, and he curiously raised his eyes to hers, as she signed, _Put book down. We talk serious_.

He reluctantly set the book aside, and turned to face her. She started to sign, _I waited four weeks. I want_—but stopped when he gently wound his tail around her wrists and pulled them down, as he signed to her, _I talk hands, you talk mouth_.

She stubbornly shook her head. _No_. He sighed and released her hands, and she signed to him emphatically, _You talk hands, I talk hands. We equals, always equals_.

He looked at her doubtfully, but nodded for her to continue. She signed to him, _Four weeks you live here, you see city, you like many things. You understand now why I left home_?

He signed back, _Yes. Many wonders, much trouble but also much joy. You were wise to leave_. He looked away for a moment in pain, then continued, _Wish now had all family leave A(Avalon) too_.

If they had all gone with her, Goliath and Elisa on their quest as soon as Oberon had first arrived and arrogantly demanded they leave, instead of defending their right to stay there, they would not have been on Avalon when Oberon gathered his Children home. They would not have had to endure weeks of torment at the whims of so many of the Fey, after Oberon withdrew his protection from them but insisted they stay as his honor guard. They would not have lost two of their number, Menalippe and Michael, and Gabriel would not have been cursed by the Weird Sisters for demanding justice of Oberon for his lost siblings; he would be able to speak to her with his voice, not with his hands.

Angela nodded in sad agreement, then signed with tears starting to form in her eyes, _So why you still hate me_?

Gabriel's jaw dropped almost to his chest. Then he signed back emphatically, _I never hate you_!

_You hate me!_ she insisted. _Or why you not want to be with me? If_ (and she made the combined signs for G and "huge", their shorthand for Goliath) _not insist we learn hand-talk, you never see me! Even hand-talking, we never walk together, you never give flowers, we never fly together for joy… _As tears began to spill down her cheeks.

Gabriel's eyes filled with tears as well. He swallowed hard, before signing, _I not want you feel bound to me. Egg-making season soon, you must choose another for mate_.

_I don't want another mate! I want you, always want you_! Angela signed back emphatically

Gabriel shook his head. He opened his mouth again, and spoke: a high-pitched yapping, like an annoying little dog, that echoed in the otherwise silent library. Oberon's curse on him, for daring to speak out in anger for his rookery siblings. Once he'd made his point, he shut up again and signed, _Not fit for mate. Choose another_.

Angela growled in frustration, before signing, _So no voice, but still fit for mate! Still strong, still great wings, still smart, still __**you**_! She pushed herself up against him, to sign right in his face, _Fey curse voice, not-_! as she grabbed at his crotch.

He gaped at her in astonishment at her boldness, even as she felt the stirring in his loins at her touch. Then he shoved her violently away, and she sprawled on the floor as he yapped furiously at her. After a few seconds he signed, _You want baby that barks? I not want_!

Frustrated beyond her ability to keep silent, Angela shouted, "Dammit, the curse is on _you_, not on our egg-to-be!"

_How you know definite? I read books_, he signed, _Many stories about Fey. They curse humans, sometimes curse follows_- Not knowing the sign for the word, he growled before spelling out, _B-l-o-o-d-l-i-n-e. You have only one egg in twenty-five years. I will not risk curse on it! Choose another_! And he spun away and stalked out of the library, leaving her sprawled on the floor, sobbing hopelessly into her hands.

00oo00oo00oo00oo00

But because I am a complete sucker for romantic happy endings, the angst only lasts a few more months, until:

_[Starts with Angela talking with some students after at a PIT meeting]_

"Dominique Destine? She's back in town? You're sure, absolutely positive?" Angela said excitedly, almost jumping up to grab Kendra's jacket in her eagerness.

A little bewildered, Kendra said, "Well, I'm not 100% positive without actually seeing her face to face, but this is her signature on the donation check, and here's the envelope it came in; see the local postmark?"

Angela was so excited she couldn't sit still any longer. "Yes! She's back! " as she bounced out of her chair and headed for the window.

Josh hurried out of her way, and as she pried open the window he asked her with a trace of bemusement, "What, is she a good friend of yours? Up until last month, we thought she was a gargoyle-hater!"

Angela gave an almost harsh laugh. "Not hardly! And she's. ..not exactly a friend, but she might be able to do something very important for me! I'll see you all next week!" as she leaped off the ledge and glided away.

Instead of heading straight for the castle, she soared across town, needing to confirm with her own eyes what she hoped was true. Eventually, she found the mansion owned by Dominique Destine, Demona's alter ego. It was dark in all the windows... all but one! There was a dim light on in just one room! She almost swooped in to land on the nearest ledge, but remembered at the last moment her mother's paranoia, and so landed on the roof of the nearest townhouse instead. No, tonight was not a good night to be shot down by automatic defenses. But now, how to attract her attention? She looked around for a moment, then picked up a fragment of roofing tile and pitched it at the window with the light shining through.

The fragment hit the window with a hard clack, and fell away to the ground below. And a moment later, a row of bright white lights fired up, beaming their incandescent brilliance straight in her direction, stabbing into her light-sensitive eyes like knives. She couldn't help slapping her hands and wings over her face and snarling in protest.

After a few moments, she heard a thump on the roof next to her." Angela! It's good to see you again, daughter, but what are you doing here?" Demona asked.

"Hello, Mother. At the moment, I'm wishing for a new pair of eyes," Angela said wryly as she blinked furiously, hoping to clear the huge purple splotches out of her vision.

"I'm sorry, but my defenses just registered a projectile heading towards the mansion from this direction! How was I to know it was you?"

"And you do this for every projectile coming at the house? You must go through a lot of paper boys."

Demona snorted. "Be glad my defenses start with merely floodlights, and don't go straight to the automatic targeting lasers and anti-aircraft guns. Here, let me guide you to the mansion; it'll still be a few minutes before your vision clears. But I must tell you how good it is for you to come to see me! After our last parting, I thought you'd want nothing to do with me ever again... But I swear to you, I'm trying to change!" as she leaped off with her daughter's hand held in a light grip, to steer her in the right direction. They landed on a ledge outside the lit window as she continued, "1 still can't honestly say I'll ever like humans as a whole, and there are some groups of them that we'd all be better off without, but I'm not going to try to exterminate the entire race anymore, I promise!"

"That's good to hear, Mother." Angela really wanted to believe her, too, but she wasn't sure she could. Still, she said, "Maybe someday, we can be all one clan again!" as she stepped cautiously forward with her arms out, feeling for the way in.

Demona guided her in and to a chair, saying ever-so-casually, "Speaking of clan, I've noticed that you've acquired a lot of new members in the last three months." Underneath the casual tone was a desperate desire to know more.

"Most of them are my rookery brothers and sisters from Avalon, though we also have a few people from other clans. But they're why I'm here, or one of them is, anyway. Mother, I need your help! You're the only sorceress I know, and I'm in love with a male who's under a curse!"

00oo00oo00oo00

Gabriel was down in the gymnasium, sparring with Michael, as Menalippe looked on in concern. Since his return to their ranks with only one wing, Michael had been spending a lot of time down here, looking to spar with anybody who'd agree to it, and nearly picking fights with the ones who didn't. And when he wasn't here, he was in the building's sub-basement weapons range, blowing holes in targets with various lethal weapons. She wondered sometimes how much of his increased interest in combat and weaponry was due to wanting to be the best castle-bound protector possible, and how much was in sheer free-floating rage against his fate, to be forever grounded.

[_Author sez: what happened to Michael and Menalippe is a separate tale, too long and complicated to relate here.]_

And when he wasn't actually patrolling the battlements, Michael hardly ever went out under the open sky anymore, as if he couldn't even bear to see it. There were nights when she wondered if he'd even perch with them to sleep, if she didn't always go looking for him just before dawn to spend time with him. She thought sometimes that he'd even start to push her away, if she let him get away with it. But she never would; she loved him too much to let him go.

Every night she could, she dragged llim off to one of the designated trysting rooms, and once or twice when they'd been full up had even mated with him in the gym locker room (actually, that was pretty fun when they turned the showers on.) He was always more cheerful then and even for a while afterwards, almost the wonderful male she'd fallen in love with over a decade ago. If only she could bring him back to being like that permanently…

Her musings were interrupted by Angela, who appeared beside her and sat down. "Who's winning?"

"Michael won the first and third matches, Gabriel the second and fourth, and they're still pounding the gravel out of each other for the fifth," she said glumly. "I guess if I were a normal female, I'd be ecstatic that he's able to hold his own against nearly everybody in the castle, but I just want him to be happy again, and all this fighting isn't making him happy at all. Just wait; five minutes after the match is over, even if he wins, he'll be looking for another fight."

"Well, it won't be with Gabriel tonight," as Angela balled up a towel and threw it between the two combatants before they could land another punch. When they looked up at her, she called out, "Gabriel, I've come from the P.I.T. meeting, and there's somebody I met tonight who wants to meet you!" That wasn't quite a lie, just a bending of the truth. But she knew if she even mentioned Demona's name, they'd never even get out of the castle.

Gabriel briefly rolled his eyes, wondering if this person claimed to have a cure for him as well. He knew she hadn't given up on him yet, and a small part of him was very glad of it, but he was quite frankly tired of trying one curse-removal technique after another, some of them extremely painful and/or highly embarrassing, and still yapping like a rabid poodle when all had been said and done. But maybe this person would be another deaf or mute human, who'd welcome a chance to converse in sign language with a gargoyle. The clan could always use another supporter, and it would be good to have another friend to talk to, to commiserate with once Angela finally gave up and chose another for a mate. So he took a quick shower and put on his regular tunic, and went with her out to town.

After they were some distance away from the castle, he clapped once to get her attention, and then signed to her, _Where are we going_?

"I'll tell you in a few minutes. Just be patient, okay?" as she headed in a roundabout fashion for Destine Manor, discreetly checking to make sure they didn't encounter anyone on patrol along the way.

Soon enough, they landed on the rooftop across from Destine Manor, where Demona had said she would meet them; she wanted to evaluate him before actually letting him inside her home. Angela was a little insulted on Gabriel's behalf, but she supposed that a thousand years of paranoia weren't going to be tossed aside in just one night.

Once they landed on the rooftop, Gabriel looked around curiously and asked why they were meeting a human up on the roof. Instead of answering right away, Angela came up to him and hugged him close. "Gabriel," she whispered, do you trust me?"

The look in his eyes clearly said, _Uh-oh. Trouble_. But all he did was nod slowly; _yes_.

"Good. Now, I want you to hold perfectly still," she whispered. "Don't move a muscle, from head to tail. Are you holding perfectly still, and can you stay that way? Good. Because you're here to meet my mother, Demona."

He held perfectly still, as requested. But his eyes went wide with shock, betrayal and anger at her deception. From all he'd heard about Demona's past exploits from Brooklyn, Lexington, Broadway, Goliath and Elisa, he would have considered her an enemy even if she hadn't burned a gaping hole in his left wing back on Avalon! She might have been under the Weird Sisters' spell on Avalon, but no spell except her own madness had been involved in trying to wipe out both the clan and the humans of their city, even the whole planet, time and time again. And now he was supposed to hold perfectly still for her? Why, to give her a better shot at him this time?

"I know what you're thinking," Angela whispered. "But Gabriel, she's a sorceress, and she loves me even if she hates everybody else. For my sake, she fought and nearly killed Thailog, and would have died from that if it weren't for the spell that gave her immortality. And it was only knowing that I would die, too, that kept her from wiping out all life on the planet! So for my sake, she's willing to help you beat this curse if she can, so we can be mates and be happy."

He considered, and slowly, carefully nodded. He would meet her, and he'd try whatever remedy she suggested, as much for Angela's sake as his own.

Angela smiled and said in a slightly louder voice, "Good. Because she's right behind you."

Only supreme self-control kept him from whipping around in surprise; he wasn't used to being snuck up on by anybody. Instead, he slowly turned around, to see Demona standing there as Angela said, "Mother, this is Gabriel. And Gabriel, this is my mother Demona."

"Clear skies," Demona said off-handedly, as anyone would say to a strange gargoyle for politeness' sake. "Well, let's have a look at the gargoyle who's captured my daughter's heart." And with that, she did a slow circuit around him, studying him from horns to toe-talons. He hadn't been scoped out so thoroughly since Marie had left for New Orleans, and couldn't quite keep down a blush of mild embarrassment as she said admiringly, "Hm, yes, a very nice male. A deep chest, good leg muscles, well-formed talons, ruggedly handsome, and the wings are an unusual configuration but look to be excellent for endurance gliding. Assuming he's reasonably intelligent as well, you've made a good choice, daughter."

"Thank you, Mother," Angela said wryly. "But he refuses to mate with me while under the Weird Sisters' curse, because he's afraid of the curse passing to the egg!"

Demona raised her brow ridges. "An unusually perceptive male! Yes, once we deal with that, you'll be good for her."

Gabriel smiled wryly and gave her a short bow, as if to say dryly, _So glad you approve_.

Demona smiled again, before pursing her lips and tapping them thoughtfully with a talon. "Hm, breaking a Fey curse...You've tried cold iron? Or the humans' holy water?"

"We tried holy water last week, when we snuck into a church and I had him drink from the baptismal fount. As for cold iron, I've held iron blades up against his throat, made him an iron collar to wear for a day and night, I even had him swallow a steel ball bearing! I've even taken him to genuine Voodoo practitioners, real magic-workers, but they couldn't help him either. Nothing's worked," Angela said sadly, while Gabriel shook his head in woeful agreement.

"An unusually strong curse, then. Oberon must have been very annoyed with you," Demona told him.

Gabriel snorted agreement, while Angela said angrily, "It wasn't Oberon himself, but the Weird Sisters, for his daring to speak up about two clan members that had been kidnapped from their perches while the clan slept! But they cast their curse right in front of Oberon, while Gabriel was still the leader of his honor guard, and he just smiled and let them do it!"

Demona 's eyes glowed red, and she growled, "Cursed Fey, daring to harm our children! I swear I'll pull the ears off the next one I meet, and make a stew of them! "

"And I'll join you for dinner," Angela growled. "But it doesn't solve our problem! Don't you know any other ways to break curses?"

"Not a curse this strong. Not without the Grimorum Arcanorum; damn that Archmage for swallowing it and then dying before it could be stripped from him. No, daughter, we'll have to lay talons on another Fey, a powerful one at that, and force him to remove the curse. A pity Puck was stripped of his powers for defying Oberon; he would have done nicely. Tell me, how does he play the role of Owen now that it's no longer just a role?"

For a moment all Angela could do was blink at her mother in shock. "You—you know about Owen being Puck?"

Demona smiled rather smugly. "Learning to detect the presence of magic, both mortal and Fey, was one of my first lessons as a sorceress. I've known of Owen's true nature since the first time I saw him, and I discerned the geas binding him to that form when I spied on the castle once last October. It wasn't hard to guess how that geas had been cast on him, either; not that I really care, but out of curiosity, how does he fare as a mere mortal now?"

"Unhappily, I think, but it's hard to tell with him. I do know he's feeling better now that his hand is flesh and blood again; Coyote did that for him before he had to go back to Avalon." Demona had turned sharply at the mention of Coyote, but shook her head when Angela said he'd gone back to Avalon. Angela continued, "He hated having his hand like that, but I guess he couldn't really justify casting a spell to undo it when it wasn't really for Alex's safety."

Demona lifted her head again and said sharply, "Clarify that. He still has some magical ability?"

"Oberon's decree stated he could still use his powers to protect or tutor Alex, but only then. He says he can teach Alex how to undo curses, but it'll be at least five years before Alex is old enough to understand the lessons. But I can't wait that long, our breeding season's in just another few months!"

Demona snorted. "We absolutely will not wait! Come on, you two, we're going straight to the castle. You'll have to escort me as a 'prisoner'; I've little doubt that Goliath has conditioned all our young to attack me on sight, assuming Xanatos hasn't rigged the other defenses to do it first."

After she explained her plan to them, Gabriel and Angela together launched from the edge, then swooped back to grasp Demona's outstretched arms. As soon as they had her, she let herself go limp, and dangled from their arms as they flew over the rooftops. "I'm going to feign unconsciousness until I'm actually in Owen's presence, so please try not to drop me," she said, before letting her head loll to one side as well.

Soon enough, they were within sight of the castle. One of the sentries spotted them while still several hundred yards away and raised the alarm, and before the trio reached the battlements Goliath, Brooklyn and two others had sprang off to meet them in midair. "You've captured Demona!" Goliath said with amazement as he drew near. "How did you do that? Where did you find her; what has she been up to lately?"

"It's a long, strange story, Father," Angela said, as Gabriel nodded in emphatic agreement. "Can it wait until we're inside and can put her down? And will you find Xanatos and Owen? They'll want to hear this, too."

Just before they landed, Gabriel reached casually back for the base of his tail, and hooked a talon in his own flesh to give himself a long, bloody scratch across the barrel. He refrained from wincing as they took Demona inside and set her on the floor, then ostensibly put one hand on Demona' s back to hold her down in case she suddenly a woke (but in reality, barely touched her.)

Raphael and Pericles were sent away, one to fetch Xanatos and Owen Burnett to the gargoyles' main living quarters as requested and the other to find the keys to the castle's dungeons, where Goliath said she would stay until they decided what to do next. Once they heard Xanatos and Owen's footsteps approaching, Gabriel tapped Goliath on the wing to get his attention and, wincing painfully, showed him the scratch. But it was Brooklyn who said sympathetically, "Ooch, looks like that smarts. Demona's work? I'll be right back with the first aid kit," as he trotted out.

Xanatos and Owen came in moments later. "So she's showed her face again," Xanatos said as he sauntered up. "How'd she try to kill us all off this time?"

"It's a long, strange story," Angela said, adding casually, "Oh, hello, Owen."

Upon hearing the name, Demona sprang up from the floor, shrugging off Gabriel's faked grip on her, and instantly had her talons wrapped around Owen's throat.

Goliath roared and sprang for her, as did Xanatos, but Angela and Gabriel surprisingly blocked them from reaching her. "Gabriel, what are you-and Angela! Curse you, Demona, are there no depths you won't stoop to in your madness?" Goliath roared as he struggled with Gabriel. "Ensorcelling our own daughter to aid in your schemes!"

"Oh, just shut up, you fool," Demona said tiredly. "1 have business with this Trickster, here." She held Owen a few inches off the floor by his neck as she growled at him. "Listen very carefully, Robin Goodfellow. There is only one person in this world that I care about, and it isn't you or your young charge Alexander. I only care about my daughter," as she gestured at Angela with her free hand, "and she is currently unhappy, because her chosen mate is under a curse. That makes me very unhappy. ..And you know what I'm capable of when I'm unhappy."

Strangling in her grip, Owen still managed to gasp out, "A regrettable-urk! Circumstance. ..But I c-can do nothing about it, th-aggk! Thanks to Oberon's restrictions."

"Oh, can't you?" Demona said with a dangerous sweetness. "Even when I tell you that, since I can't take my wrath out on Oberon himself, I intend to wreak my vengeance on Avalon's Heir?"

Xanatos, currently pinned face-down on the floor by Angela, struggled even more furiously as he howled, "You touch one hair on my son's head and I swear I'll kill you!"

"Good luck with that; I'm immortal. And I've learned patience over the centuries; I may not kill him tonight, or even this week, but one night or day when you least expect it, I'll rip his heart out and feast on it… Unless, of course, you make me happy again by making my daughter happy, and removing the curse from her chosen male. You know I can do it, Puck. And you believe me, don't you?" as she smiled, showing her fangs.

Owen spun and dwindled in her grip, to become a grinning Puck that saluted her cockily and winked as he said, "You know I do, sweet thing! One curse removal, corning right up!" as his eyes flared bright green, and he spat green fire in Gabriel's direction.

Gabriel stopped struggling to hold Goliath back as the green fire circled him once, then hit him square in the throat. He fell to his knees, his own eyes glowing bright green for just a moment, as Goliath stepped back and watched him warily, and Angela stopped holding Xanatos down to stand up and look at him hopefully. When the glow faded, Puck said cheerily, "Speak, boy!"

Gabriel opened his mouth, and said hesitantly, "I..." Suddenly, he whirled, and swept Angela off her feet to whirl her around before embracing her with arms and wings. "Angela, I love you! I love you! Please, please be my mate!"

"YES!" Angela shrieked happily before grabbing Gabriel by his batwinged ears for a full-bodied kiss. As the two stood liplocked, Demona let Puck go with a satisfied smile as she proclaimed, "Now, I'm happy again."

Goliath shook his head wonderingly as he rumbled, "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're an idiot," Demona told him matter-of-factly. "And you've grown too soft on humans to make a convincing threat." She walked over to Gabriel and Angela, smiled again and tapped Gabriel on his wing strut.

It took two taps for the impression to sink through Gabriel's preoccupation with kissing Angela, but he broke off the kiss to look at Demona with shining eyes. "Demona, thank you, thank you!" he said fervently, and Angela added her joyous thanks as well, while Puck stood sulking off to one side, grumbling that he'd done all the work.

"You can thank me by siring a fine egg for the rookery," Demona said with a smile. "Though I wouldn't object to a pound or two of Godiva chocolates; I've grown rather fond of them."

"I'll bring you eight pounds, a dozen pounds!" Gabriel swore, and Angela chimed in, "A hundred pounds!"

"I'll make it five hundred pounds," Xanatos said as he walked up, rubbing his shoulder where he'd nearly dislocated it while struggling with Angela, "Provided you really have no harmful intentions towards Alexander."

"Let's just say that I have no more harm in mind for the child than for any other human," Demona said as she strode away, heading for the roof. Xanatos and Goliath looked ruefully at each other as the implications of that statement sank in, but they let her go; after finding a way around Puck's restrictions and making two young gargoyles deliriously happy, they could do nothing against her tonight.

Angela and Gabriel decided to pick up where they'd left off, Gabriel actually picking Angela up and carrying her out of the room, still kissing her whenever he could spare his attention from navigating. In between kisses, Angela cheerily waved goodbye to her father over Gabriel's shoulder. Goliath smiled, and silently wished them well.

While they hadn't been looking, Puck had become Owen again, who now straightened his rumpled shirt and tie as he said gravely to Xanatos and Goliath, "I trust this hasn't set a precedence, sirs. Regardless of any personal desires on my part, I would not have been allowed to act if there had not been a very real chance that Demona would make good on her threat, and her being an immortal made it easier for me to remove the curse from Gabriel than to simply destroy her where she stood."

"Read you loud and clear, Owen," Xanatos said wryly, while Goliath rumbled agreement. "Besides, the day I threaten Alexander with anything more than a spanking, I hereby give you permission to shoot me down with whatever's handy; I'd have to be certifiably insane to want to hurt my own son."

00oo00oo00oo00

Gabriel kicked open the door to the first unoccupied room they found, and carried Angela inside. It turned out to be the walk-in linen closet, with quilts, sheets and towels stacked neatly on shelves. Neither of them cared about the decor, only that they were alone with each other, and very much in love, and Gabriel was free to admit it at last.

In between kisses, Gabriel kept murmuring, "1 love you. (kiss) I love you. (kiss) I love everything about you, my darling (kiss) my angel. I love your bright spirit (kiss) I love your determination (kiss) I love your caring heart, (kiss) and oh do I love your body! I love your hair, (nuzzle, deep breath) its scent, its feel. (kiss) I love your smile, (kiss) the taste of your lips sweeter than honey. (kiss) I love your ears, (kiss, nibble) such lovely tips (nibble other ear). I love your neck (nuzzle), graceful as a swan's. (nuzzle, brief lick in hollow of throat) I love your shoulders, (kiss) so perfect. (kiss) I love your wing-talons (kiss), so delicate, (kiss) yet so…useful. I loOUCH!" and he abruptly backed away, grabbing his nose as he gave her a look of hurt accusation. "Whadid you binch by dose for?"

"Just showing you just how 'useful' those wing-talons are," Angela giggled. "Besides, you were tickling me! Darling, you know I'm ticklish right under the talons."

"And I know your other ticklish spots, too! _En guarde_!" as he pounced on her. She shrieked playfully as she dodged and poked for his own ticklish points, and they jostled and rolled about the room like rowdy hatchlings, laughing like they hadn't laughed together in years.

Then suddenly, when he had her pinned down and was tickling her under the arms with his tail spikes and she was retaliating with her own tail up his tunic, he leaned down and kissed her hard. When he came up for air, she saw the glow of raw desire in his eyes, and neither of them were laughing anymore. He let go of one of her hands, to place his palm on her left breast and lightly hook the laces of her tunic with a talon. Breathing hard, he asked simply, "Now?"

"Now," she agreed, and pulled him down for another kiss. In very short order they were both naked, their clothes thrown in the comer, and lying atop the pile of sheets and comforters Gabriel had swept from the shelves for their love-nest. Kissing and nuzzling, soft growls mingling with murmurs of love, they explored every inch of each other's bodies with their hands, tail tips, lips and tongues, learning the ways to give and receive pleasure. Their murmurs, gasps and growls gradually built into a crescendo as they came together in the age-old rhythm, until their senses exploded together with a shriek and roar that echoed deafeningly in the small room and resounded out into the corridor.

When the world finally spun to a halt again, Gabriel shakily raised himself up on his elbows to look with love and gratitude down into Angela's eyes. "So beautiful," he whispered.

"So wonderful," she whispered back, reaching up to stroke his chin spurs.

He kissed her fingers, then slid his hands under her to hold them together as he rolled over, finally remembering that he was nearly twice her weight. Not that she'd minded that sweet pressure on her, not at all, she thought as she happily pillowed her head on his broad chest. He kissed her mane and brow ridges as he whispered, "We are one."

She agreed softly, "Now and forever."

Sometime later, their growling stomachs finally overpowered their hunger for each other, and they put on their clothes to venture out of the closet. But as soon as they opened the door, they discovered a covered dish set right outside in the hallway, and a hand-lettered sign taped to the door itself reading "Honeymoon Sweet: Do Not Disterb."

"Broadway's handwriting," Angela mused fondly as she touched the sign.

"And Martha's baking," Gabriel said with a grin as he showed her the sweet pastries and savory meat pies piled high on the platter. "Shall we?" Angela nodded agreement, and they brought the food inside and shut the door again.

So that's their happy ending… only it's hardly the end for those two; instead it's just the beginning! They have far more adventures starting in 1998, after the first clutch of clan eggs are laid in the rookery. Angela's desires for travel and adventure lead to the pair becoming goodwill ambassadors for the clan, traveling all over the world for six months out of every year, and many shenanigans ensue. But they also return home to Manhattan for the remaining six months of every year, to satisfy Gabriel's more homebody desires as well as deal with the results of that increased fertility spell Herne the Hunter cast on them both.

For the clan's breeding season in 1997-1998, the combination of the two fertility spells acts like fertility-boosting drugs on humans, and Angela has twin eggs (this is Extremely Rare among gargoyles, and puts as much stress and strain on poor Angela as carrying quintuplets does for a human woman. Gabriel does a lot of waiting hand-n-foot on his beleaguered mate when she gets too huge to even stand up unaided.)

After the eggs are laid in the spring and Angela recovers from the birthing, they begin their joint ambassadorship and travels, starting with a visit to Ishimura to deliver an egg to them (Demona's; again, long story.) But they're shocked to find out six months later that the combined spells are increasing Angela's fertility to the point that every autumn's Harvest Moon is their own private Breeding Moon! Angela's shocked and dismayed, Gabriel's shocked and… well, secretly delighted, to tell the truth, because it means they have to go back to Manhattan for the duration of her pregnancy, and he misses the clan and their protectorate. (Besides, Breeding Moons are _awesome_.) But he really does sympathize with Angela, who ends up suffering all the results of Herne's 'helpfulness,' and he is as attentive and considerate as any mate could be during each pregnancy.

The out-of-cycle pregnancies result in just one egg instead of two, so there's less stress on Angela's frame, but she lays four of them in five years. The clan is delighted with the increase to their population, even thought it means they need to redesign their entire rookery lifestyle to accommodate children that aren't hatched the same years as everyone else. Only Angela's first out-of-cycle egg is alone in its mini-rookery; by the year 1999, after Dr. Horace Morgenstern has collected enough data on gargoyle pregnancies and fertility, he's able to create a gargoyle fertility drug that acts on willing females to let them and their mates enjoy out-of-cycle Breeding Moons as well, so Angela and Gabriel's successive eggs are always joined in their year-rookeries by two or three others.

Because this author enjoys exploring gender issues and the many assumptions each gender tends to make about the other, while traveling in the summer of 2002 Angela and Gabriel would be caught up in a massive gender-changing spell that had been cast to cover a small country, and as a result they spend nearly a year as Angelo and Gabrielle. During which time, thanks to the gender-changing spell not nullifying the fertility spells in the slightest, Gabrielle finds out first-hand what breeding and carrying an egg to term is like for females! ;-)

Once Alexander is old enough in 2004 for Puck to teach him how to transfer a spell that another Fey cast, shifting it from one mortal to another without damaging it, Angela is positively overjoyed that she and Gabriel can give up their fertility spells to another couple whose female is willing to be a brood mare for the next several years. After the spells are transferred, they spend a few years journeying with King Arthur and Griff or undertaking missions for them as two of their Knight-Errants, before returning to Manhattan in 2008 for the clan's first hatching in a thousand years. (BTW, the twin eggs from Angela and Gabriel's first breeding season hatch a brother and sister, who grow up to become the time-traveling duo briefly featured in chapter 7 of "Mating Games 9: Bad Moves.")

.

And there's one last big secret to reveal in this epilogue, concerning the series' villains. John Castaway's secret is already known to every fan of Gargoyles; he's really Jon Canmore, the last scion of the Hunters that have plagued Demona and every other gargoyle they've come across for the last thousand years. Thailog's origin is also known. But Oliver Grimm, the main financial backer for the Quarrymen, has a secret too, and it has never been shared until now...

Oliver Grimm is a Fey hybrid, a bastard son of Oberon himself, born nearly 700 years ago. Oberon 'dallied' with his mother, a highborn lady in medieval Prussia (modern Germany), but grew bored with her and left long before she realized she was pregnant. The woman's family hurriedly married her off to the first nobleman who would accept her dowry; a cold and cruel man who cared only for her money, not for her and certainly not for her bastard son.

The child (whose name was not Oliver Grimm back then; his true name has been lost to the mists of antiquity) his Fey heritage began to manifest itself at the tender young age of seven; with no Fey handy to teach him as Puck does for Alex, he was a late bloomer. His mother never knew her lover had been a Fey, and when her son began levitating and setting things on fire (such as stray cats; he's always hated cats) just by looking at them, she thought he was possessed and summoned priests to have him exorcised. But the stepfather thought it would be more expedient to simply kill the boy, and attempted to do so forthwith... only to die himself instead. He was the first human that the person we now know as Oliver Grimm killed, but hardly the last.

The boy was not only a cruel little lad, but a clever one; he knew that while he could kill the priests attempting to exorcise 'the demon inside him', more would follow if he did, and he might have trouble defeating an entire mob. So he put on a truly impressive display, one of his first illusions, and convinced the priests that they had succeeded in exorcising the demon out of him. They went away happy that they had saved an innocent soul, and the innocent-seeming lad began plotting how to take over the world.

He had wealth and privilege, thanks to his deceased stepfather, and learned at an early age how to use them to his advantage to gain political power and more wealth. He also displayed an uncanny talent for rabble-rousing, perhaps aided by his Fey powers, and was not above fomenting peasant rebellions to plague or overthrow nobles who refused to be swayed by his wealth and political influence. And when all else failed, more than one obstacle in his path to greatness suffered a mysterious death or was 'disappeared' with the aid of his Fey abilities. By the age of eighteen, he had more power and wealth than the majority of Prussian nobility, and had his sights set on the very throne. But he kept running into snags here and there; village hedge-witches, wise-women and others who had Second Sight would frequently take one look at him and start denouncing him as evil and inhuman.

After one particular popular wise-woman incited her villagers to rise against him and actually wounded him with a glancing blow from an iron hoe, he decided that enough was enough and something had to be done. And since the Christian priests were already denouncing these hedge-witches as tools of Satan, because they were jealous of the power these pagan practitioners had over the people... Grimm threw some of his already considerable influence behind the Church and organized the first of the great witch-hunts. Any man or woman who had magical or unexplainable powers (or even just a cat as a pet and land or possessions that Grimm wanted) was accused of witchcraft and trafficking with Satan, subjected to deliberately cruel and rigged tests and trials to determine guilt or innocence, and put to death.

Grimm liked to indulge himself by watching the rigged trials and executions, until one day a victim screamed as she was being tied to the stake that she had been given a vision of the future, and someday she would be avenged! Even as the torch was applied to the wood, she stared straight at Grimm and cried,

"Man of two races, mortal flesh and Fairy blood,

You shall be hunted by those who fly by night!

You will lose all, be worth less than mud,

And live your last hour cowering in fright!

You will be hunted and brought into ruin,

Felled like a stag, like a bird from the sky!

A mixed-blood child shall be your doom!

A Child of Stone shall see you die!"

(Loosely translated from medieval Prussian. But even when she said it, it rhymed. Really!)

This hit Grimm like the proverbial ton of bricks, because until then, he'd had only speculations of where his powers came from. The Fey were not unknown in medieval Germany, but he'd never before heard of a real person, a human with Fey blood in their veins... And if this witch had true knowledge of his origins, did she also have true knowledge of his eventual fate?

After that, Grimm stopped personally attending the executions. And he began a new campaign, against the Children of Stone that the witch had spoken of, those who fly by night: the gargoyles. Even if the witch had been delirious and raving at the moment of her death, he was going to take no chances on letting the prophecy come to pass.

Grimm joined with the local officials of the Church once more, to take the local mutterings of the village priests against the gargoyle clan living in the Black Forest and whip them and the local populace into a frenzy of fear and hatred against the gargoyle clan. And he personally led the army that attacked the clan while they slept in stone, and made sure that every last gargoyle was smashed, even the hatchlings in the rookery. [As an ironic side note, Demona had recently come to that clan; after over a century of wandering the continent, having left the British Isles after Canmore slaughtered her clan there, she had been found by a hunting party of the Black Forest Clan and given a warm welcome. Her statue was also smashed, but the spell linking her to MacBeth and a full night and a day saw her fully restored in body, though once more traumatized in spirit.]

After destroying the gargoyle clan, Grimm turned with renewed vigor to scouring Europe of all witches and people possessed of Second Sight or other powers (or even had one parent who was odd and suspected of being other than human; he took no chances when it came to the mixed-blood child mentioned in the prophecy.) He threw all his power and influence behind the Church to make sure that the purge spread all across the continent, and continued on for decades. And since one of the 'tests' for witchcraft was owning a cat, cats became universally renowned as witches' familiars. As a result, the poor felines were frequently slaughtered on sight, even by people who had kept them as pets; they didn't want to be accused of witchcraft by their neighbors. With no cats to keep the rat populations in check, they flourished in unprecedented numbers, and so did the plague-carrying fleas that lived in their fur; the end result was the horrible Black Death, the Plague Years of 1347-1351 that wiped out over a third of Europe's population.

By the time the man we now call Oliver Grimm was 35 years old, it became apparent that his aging process had slowed considerably after puberty; he still looked like a teenager, when most men his age had begun losing teeth and walking with canes. With his Fey skills all self-taught, untutored in the finer points of casting and maintaining illusions, he was unable to age his own appearance in a believable manner (and truthfully, he was too vain of his looks to give himself wrinkles.) And even all his considerable power and influence could not prevent others from noticing his lack of aging, and muttering against him... Before he could be formally accused of witchcraft and given the same treatment he had given so many others and so richly deserved, he faked his own death, changed his name and moved to medieval England.

This became a habit of his; spending a few decades in one guise, amassing wealth and power, then secreting his fortune somewhere so it could be used again later (or willing it to himself in another identity,) faking his death and moving on to somewhere else. And wherever he went, he kept up his campaign against witches and gargoyles, and anyone who might be suspected of being a hybrid of either race; he was determined that the prophecy would never come to pass. In his lust for power and his determination to wipe out all gargoyles and witches, he helped to engineer the destabilization and overthrow of the French government in the 1790's, and the destruction of the gargoyle clan that had lived in the upper structures of Notre Dame; their tragic slaughter was documented in the TGS story "From the Heart."

Grimm ages roughly one year for every quarter-century (actually one day for every twenty-four days, aging at the same rate as time flows on Avalon, though he doesn't know that.) By 1996, he appears to be in his mid-forties.

Oliver Grimm was in Cincinnati, managing his computer business Kreuzung Technologies (a little joke of his; Kreuzung is German for 'hybrid') when the Hunter-released video clip of the gargoyles leaving the ruins of the clocktower hit the news channels. Within 24 hours he was in Manhattan, investigating the sighting, determined to eradicate this newly-revealed clan and once more prevent the prophecy from coming true. He was on his way to the conflict he'd heard about over the radio, the fight at St. Damien's cathedral, when he saw Demona fleeing the scene and Jon Canmore chasing her. A short while later, when Demona managed to lose Canmore in a maze of alleys and he stopped to get his bearings, the Hunter heard a voice behind him saying, "Your prey has escaped for the moment... but I can help you continue the hunt, if you wish..."

Grimm had heard of the Hunters before that night, and had aided them in their hunt for gargoyles more than once over the centuries; he found it incredibly convenient to simply give them the funding they needed and the location of a clan, and let them destroy his enemies for him. He never aided them directly more than once or twice a century, though, lest they discover the secret of his incredible longevity. Two generations had passed since the last time Grimm had encountered a Hunter, so he felt confident that Canmore would not recognize him from any descriptions as he helped him create the identity of John Castaway and found the Quarrymen. Grimm's engineers had designed the electrified hammers and nets some time ago, and Grimm was delighted to see them put to good use at last.

For those who were wondering who was behind the gargoyle-impersonating home invaders that Quarryman Mitchell Starsky shot to death in "Deadly Moon," wonder no more; that was Grimm's doing. After Jon Canmore/Castaway remembered the very distinctive name of one of his lieutenants, Grimm hired two cold-blooded killers, and gave them the costumes, the weapons designed to mimic gargoyle talons and Starsky's address. He wanted not just dead Quarrymen but dead Quarrymen's children too, kids who had apparently been killed by gargoyles; Grimm knew that some people would quit the organization in fear as a result but many more would join up, after the family was touted to the entire world as martyrs to their cause. But unfortunately for Grimm and the killers, Starsky had been ready for trouble, and the whole scheme backfired spectacularly.

And now that the secrets have been told, the fates of our villains (well, of two of them, anyway. Thailog's is another story, too long and frankly M-rated to relate here.)

Castaway will pursue the gargoyles with ever-increasing fervor, even while fighting against the city authorities as the public at large gradually recognizes that the Quarrymen are more of a threat to public safety than the gargoyles are. Until one evening, his brother Jason finally manages to crash his current location, and get in to see him...

By this time, late spring in my timeline, Jason has regained a fair amount of feeling and function below the waist, thanks to early and expert medical intervention immediately after he was shot and vigorous physical therapy ever since. He'd never be able to run a marathon or even walk without assistance, but he can use arm braces to 'tripod' along and hopes to graduate to the use of a cane. This would be the first time Jason and Jon have seen each other since the fight at St. Damien's. And the first words out of Jason's mouth when he sees him are, "Brother, I love you. And I don't blame you for what happened last year..."

John breaks down and cries.

Jason knows his little brother better than anyone else, and he'd always had a strong hunch that a large part of John's sudden fervor to destroy the gargoyles, after a lifetime of quietly questioning the Hunt, was displaced self-loathing and guilt. Guilt that he had not prevented the gargoyles from knocking Jason over that dam to his apparent death, compounded by even more guilt when the shot he'd aimed at Goliath in the cathedral had hit his beloved big brother instead. And as it turns out, he was right. The two brothers talk for a while, and cry together, and talk some more... and John finally agrees to end the Hunt forever, and disband the Quarrymen.

But Oliver Grimm had long ago left private orders with the Quarrymen's secretary, to call him if anyone claiming to be Castaway's brother showed up; his centuries of experience had given him some forewarning that Jon might be swayed from his course by a member of his family. And he arrives just in time to hear John's decision... and promptly murders both brothers in cold blood. Then he kills the astonished secretary, the sole witness, and uses a clawlike tool to slash all the bodies to ribbons, to make it seem as if gargoyles broke in and killed all three.

Declaring the murdered trio all martyrs to the cause, Grimm rallies the Quarrymen into an all-out daylight assault on the Aerie Building and Castle Wyvern, determined to kill the gargoyles there. But the assault plans are leaked by a spy that Xanatos had planted in the Quarrymen's ranks, and the assault itself is repelled by the combined forces of Xanatos Enterprises' human guards, the Steel Clan, Cyberbiotics' cybots, Coldstone and Coldfire (they've returned to Manhattan by this point; another long story) and NYPD's Gargoyles Task Force. The battle costs the good guys dearly, but by the end of it the Quarrymen are finished; those still alive after the battle's over are arrested for aggravated assault, possession of illegal arms, and everything else the DA can throw at them.

And to make matters worse for Grimm, though he'd done a good job of making it look like someone else had been the mastermind behind the assault on the castle, the Illuminati still found out it was him. And the Grandmaster declared that by violating the 'no direct aggression' pact that had been made between him and Xanatos, Grimm had violated the terms of his membership in the Illuminati and was now an ex-member. And since the Illuminati have policies of lifelong membership and Draconian measures to maintain their secrecy, the lifespan of ex-members can usually be measured in hours...

Only by desperately using his Fey powers to fake his own death did Grimm escape the assassin's dagger. He was able to step into a new identity, complete with full papers, that had been arranged some time ago, but immediately had to abandon that as well when the Illuminati hunted his new identity down too. He had arranged for the new identity to inherit all his holdings, and by Illuminati tradition, when a member is excommunicated and killed, his descendants are either stripped of all his possessions or killed as well, whichever is easier. (This keeps old or terminally ill men with one foot in the grave already from even thinking of going against the organization; they may think they have nothing left to lose, but their families...)

Now homeless, penniless and hunted, instead of doing the sensible thing and heading for the farthest horizon, Grimm burns even more strongly to destroy the gargoyles. He's heard the vague rumors about somebody in the castle having magical powers, and the rumors that somebody up there is partly gargoyle, partly human (Delilah, who has also moved into the castle by then—yes, that's still another story too long to go into here), and even the rumor whispered in the NYPD 23rd Precinct that the child Detective Maza is carrying might not be entirely human... He's lost everything but his life now, but he can't allow the prophecy to be completely fulfilled!

But his use of Fey powers to save himself while the Illuminati are hunting him has brought him to the attention of the Weird Sisters, who are scouring the globe to round up stray half-breeds in possession of real magical ability, after all the full-blooded Children of Oberon have been corralled on Avalon. (Why they're doing that is still another long story.) Anyway, they're not happy to be tasked with this, and they still hold a grudge against the gargoyles, so when they find Grimm and he desperately bargains with them to help him destroy the gargoyles, they pause and listen...

Grimm and the Weird Sisters decoy Puck away from the castle and render him helpless, and conduct a magical assault on the castle. But they are defeated, when Alexander, Bethany, Angela (who has just begun learning magic from her mother, with Goliath's reluctant approval—yup, another long story) and Delilah (completely untutored, but possessing even more magical might than Puck thanks to her hybrid heritage—reread Behind Closed Doors 2 for details) make a desperate last-ditch defense; a mixed-magics spell that could have detonated half of Manhattan if it went wrong, but instead completely destroys the Weird Sisters' magical ability forever. The Sisters are captured, but Grimm makes a last-second desperate move and escapes capture for the moment. But he can't get out of the Aerie Building, and the clan does a floor-by-floor search for him; his last hour is lived in terror.

Then Grimm makes one more desperate and bold move, and takes little Bethany as a hostage. With an iron collar around her neck, Bethany can make no magic to defend herself, and the gun held to her forehead prevents everyone else from approaching him. He demands a safe escape, and it is reluctantly granted... But while the negotiations are still going on, Matt Bluestone steals one of Fox's sniper rifles from the armory, gets into a secure position, and waits. Unknown to Grimm, Matt had married Anne Marsden six weeks ago, and legally adopted Bethany as his own daughter. She is now Bethany Bluestone, a mixed-blood child who is also a child of 'stone'... And Grimm learns of that fact right before a steel-jacketed rifle bullet drills him right between the eyes. The prophecy has come to pass.

So, that's over 29 pages' worth of scene-snippets and ramblings about what would have happened next in "Gargoyles: Life Goes On," which should have answered the most common questions people have had about the series. But there's a lot more that hasn't been told yet. I'm thinking of writing a series/multi-chapter posting called "And On, and On…" that would be something like an extended "Kimberly's Ramblings." Each new installment in it, "The Tale of X" or "The Tale of X & Y" (and in a few cases, "The Tale of Group X") would include story notes, plot outlines and the many already-written scenes for the stories that won't be completely written out. They would be fairly detailed explanations of what would happen with each character and clan, the canon folks as well as the OC's. If enough people review or email to actually express interest in such postings, that is; if not, if I've told enough to satisfy most of my readers, then this chapter's brief outlines and scene-snippets will be the end of it all.

It has been a pleasure and a true learning experience, writing so much fanfic for Gargoyles and receiving so much feedback over the years. Thank you for reading,

Clear skies,

Kimberly T.


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